


The Umbrella Academy - One-Shots!

by writing_and_worrying



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Allergies, Angst, Canon Compliant, Comedy, Crossdressing, Cuddling & Snuggling, Dark Comedy, Dissociation, Drug Addiction, Drug Use, Drugs, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Flashbacks, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, News Media, No Incest, One Shot, One Shot Collection, Panic Attacks, Paparazzi, Post-Canon, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, References to Drugs, Requests, Sad, Shopping, Sibling Bonding, Sibling comfort, Singing, Temporary Blindness, Trans Character, Trans Diego Hargreeves, Trans Male Character, Vietnam War, You Have Been Warned, my writing style is a mess sorry, sad comedy, temporary deafness, thats it thats my brand
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-21
Updated: 2019-10-05
Packaged: 2020-03-09 06:25:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 21,447
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18911380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writing_and_worrying/pseuds/writing_and_worrying
Summary: Umbrella Academy One-shots!Requests completed: 9Requests: closed





	1. Just a Note

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Umbrella Academy One Shots](https://archiveofourown.org/works/17990264) by [ThatDudeNoah](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatDudeNoah/pseuds/ThatDudeNoah). 



**NOTE: THIS BOOK IS DISCONTINUED. DO NOT REQUEST ANYTHING!!!**

**Here are the rules for requesting a one-shot in the comments:**

1\. Be kind (this is the most important rule) I am not going to do your request if you are mean and pushy about it (e.g I want you to do this!!! Do it now or I'll report you!!!!!)

2\. I refuse to write certain things and other things make me uncomfortable so this is the list:

  * Incest (including 'canon incest' like Luther and Allison, it makes me uncomfy)
  * Sex. I will write mentions of sex and innuendos (e.g someone talking about sex or sex work in a normal way- not much detail) I will not write porn
  * Weird/uncomfortable kinks. This basically links with the last point but like I know that some things like age-play and watersports can technically be classed as not sex so just making it clear that I won't write that either. Not to kink shame though, what you like doesn't matter as long as you aren't hurting anyone else.
  * A detailed description of self-harm. I WILL WRITE ABOUT SELF-HARM. Just not detailed (e.g detailed description of cutting etc) because I think at that point it does more harm than good. Mentions of self-harm are fine too.
  * The same point as before but with eating disorders and also terminal illness (I'm just not very good at writing sick-fics, I have nothing against them if you want to request that)
  * Character x Reader or Character x OC. Sorry!! I just don't find it very fun to write
  * Crossovers between shows etc
  * Stuff relating to the comics because I haven't read them yet (but I did start the first one!!)
  * Anything pro-racism, pro-homophobia, or pro-sexism. Duh.
  * Very out of character things, or very out of canon things (e.g Diego and Cha-Cha having a tea party or something?)
  * Real people like the cast or something, especially ships between the real actors!! But I am open to writing a little about the cast (e.g the real characters come to our universe and meet their actors)



3\. If I ask if I can change something from your request please don't get offended, it's probably because I was inspired to write a certain thing and I need to know if you're ok with me changing the thing. You can say no! It's your request, after all.

4\. Do not get angry if it takes me a long time to update! I have a lot on my plate and I'm a perfectionist so writing takes a while for me!! My goal is to update every week, but sometimes it will take a little longer. Bear this in mind when you request something, as your request will be put at the bottom of the list (aka if your request is the 10th one on the list, it will take me about 10 weeks to get to it)

5\. If your request makes me uncomfortable for any reason (either stated above or just randomly) I will explain and ask if you would like to have a different request. Don't worry! I know it is probably not your fault if your request makes me uncomfortable, I give everyone benefit of the doubt!

6\. If you ignore my replies concerning any issues with the story, I will not write your request until I get a response.

7\. You can request multiple stories, even in the same comment! As long as you don't spam me then I'm happy to write what you want. You aren't being greedy. Just keep in mind that if you send me 20 requests it will take longer than 2 requests! And I might put other people's individual requests above your multiple requests (e.g I'll write one for you then write some for other people before returning to you)

8\. That's it I think! Have fun requesting stuff :) Of course, there are exceptions to these rules so if you think that your idea might be risque, just comment it and I'll consider it. There's no harm in trying!


	2. Skirts and Sibling Bonding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @Breanna_Song : Hmm!!! Can you write a one-shot involving a trans Diego? Specifically, they’re thirteen and he’s already come out. Klaus is rooting around his shit & find skirts, Diego says he can have them?
> 
> Also, a one shot with trans diego when he’s older would be amazing too!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I put these ones together because they were too short on their own, hope you enjoy!

For @Breanna_Song

“Why are you in my room, Klaus?” Diego asked with a yawn, blinking to adjust his eyes to the darkness of the space. A sliver of light drained into the room from the hall and highlighted Diego’s tired features. He had heard someone enter his room, Klaus was a guess. But who else could it be, really? The only Hargreeves sibling that didn’t seem to get tired. The only one stupid enough to enter Diego’s room in the middle of the night. Maybe the only one who wouldn’t get a knife to the face.

Reginald had sent them on a mission today and Diego had really just wanted to go to bed by the end of it all. But of course, his brother had to break into his room just as he was about to fall asleep. Without as much as a sideways glance, Klaus opened Diego’s closet and started rummaging through his clothes.

“Just browsing,” he answered, a look of concentration written on his face as he searched. Diego frowned, trying to think about any possibly incriminating things might be hidden away in that closet. What was Klaus even looking for?

“What are you even looking for?” Diego questioned, honestly intrigued by his brother’s behaviour. He pushed himself up so he was leaning on his bed with his arms in a more upright position. He saw Klaus shrug.

“Just stuff that you probably won’t be wearing anymore,” he said. Diego raised an eyebrow.

“Like what?”

“Oh, y’know, skirts, dresses and the like.” He threw a shirt over his shoulder. “And anything else that’s better than my shit.” He mumbled the last part but Diego still heard him.

“Seriously? I only came out a month ago and you’re already stealing my stuff? I thought this only happened to Allison!” Diego complained lightheartedly, not even bothering to hide the smile on his face. When he came out as trans, mom had freaked out a little and insisted that they buy a whole new wardrobe of ‘man clothes’ for him. It had been a fun day out, ignoring the fact that they all had to wear those damn school uniforms most of the time. A bit of pointless fun never hurt anybody.

“Only ‘cause I thought you might cut my hands off if I even set foot in your room…” Klaus retorted as he pulled a black and white floral skirt out of the closet. After giving it an evaluative look, he tossed it into a pile with the shirt.

“Besides, you don’t want this stuff to be taking up so much space unnecessarily.” He paused for a second and frowned, “Unless- I mean- it’s totally fine if you wanna keep this stuff. It’s nice and clothes don’t equal gender etcetera etcetera…” trailing off, Klaus held up a blue and green dress (that never even suited him anyway) in an offering kind of motion. Diego shook his head so quickly that it made him dizzy. Ah, the side-effects of being tired.

“Fuck no! Get them gone!” he yelled. Klaus smirked at his brother’s adamancy. Diego stuck his tongue out at him.

“Eloquent, really.” Klaus turned back to the closet and Diego made a closet joke in his head because of course he did.

After a few beats of comfortable silence (well, not  _ silence _ . Klaus’ search was actually pretty loud) Klaus turned around, holding a gold, sparkly dress up to his body. It was kind of hideous, which meant it was perfect for him. Diego sighed, shielding his eyes when the light from the hall reflected off of the dress.

“Do you think this would suit me?” Klaus asked innocently, as if he wasn’t holding the world’s ugliest garment of clothing ever. Diego just groaned in mild annoyance.

“Just take the dresses and go. I’m tired,” he said, running a hand through his hair and attempting not to yawn again. Klaus laughed lightly and started to gather up the large pile of clothes that had accumulated on Diego’s floor.

“Okay, okay! Thanks, bro- good talk- we’ll do it again one day,” his words started to jumble into nothing after that. Perhaps it was because Diego was tired, or maybe that was just how Klaus talked- no one would ever be sure. Truly, a mystery of the modern era. Diego’s eyes felt like lead and his brain felt like cotton. It was definitely time to sleep.

Klaus walked out of the door with a grin on his face and the weight of all the clothes in his arms. The door shut gracefully with a click, coating Diego’s room in darkness. He couldn’t help but smile to himself and almost laugh (like, exhale out of your nose mixed with a giggle- although Diego would never call it that) as he thought about Klaus making a fashion show out of all of his old clothes.

As his head hit the pillow and he closed his eyes, a ghost of a smile still remained on his face and happy thoughts filled his head. He had forgotten all about the mission- he didn’t care- and he drifted into sleep with a content and calm mind.

Thank god for Klaus.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

 

Seventeen years and several time-jumps later, the days of fashion shows and sibling bonding were very far behind them. Extreme exhaustion, however, was the new norm. The hot new trend. Daily life in the Hargreeves household.

Klaus was currently lying on his bed, staring into the vast nothingness of his ceiling, trying not to think about current events. He was wearing black jeans his tie-dye crop top, as well as his tags- obviously. No socks, showing off his chipped nail polish. He barely heard his brother enter the room (the stabby one not the dead one) but eventually, he turned his head lazily towards him.

“What’s up?” Klaus asked in the croaky, whispered tone that he had grown so accustomed to in recent months. Diego shrugged and sat- or collapsed- on the floor with a sigh.

“I was just-just thinking about some stuff,” he said, a thoughtful look present on his illuminated face. Klaus had decked out his room with fairy lights from his most recent expedition to Target. They bathed the scene in a soft blue glow that made everything look like the Mediterranean Sea. It was daytime, but the curtains were closed in favour of the lights- for the aesthetic, Klaus would probably argue.

“What kind of stuff?” He asked. Diego smiled just a little, the azure light catching on his teeth.

“Remember when I came out?” He paused and Klaus nodded absently, “A-And you stole all my skirts and dresses?” Klaus did, in fact, remember that interaction. One of the few childhood memories he didn’t want to repress. Dresses don’t silence ghosts, but they do make you look fucking fabulous.

“Mhmm… Do you want ‘em back? They won’t fit you, y’know,” Klaus said with a smirk. Diego threw a random pillow at him.

“No!” Diego shouted. “No… um… I actually just wanted to talk to you about, uh, transitioning,” he trailed off, staring at the floor. Klaus lifted himself up (maximum effort) so that he was sitting on his bed, legs crossed. He gave Diego a perplexed look.

“Why me?” he said. And, ouch, the truly confused look on Klaus’ face made Diego’s heart hurt. Had he really made his brother think that they couldn’t talk anymore? That Diego didn’t want anything to do with him? There was a moment of silence between them.

“It sounds crazy but I think it’s ‘cause I trust you,” Diego said, honestly. Klaus hesitated for a beat, then grinned like a Cheshire cat. Then, he laughed.

“Wow,” he said. Diego rolled his eyes.

“I know.”

Clapping his hands together, Klaus spoke in a much more energized tone:

“Okay, hit me with it. What did you wanna say to your  _ most trustworthy _ and favourite brother?” Oh boy, Diego was never gonna hear the end of that one, was he? He let himself smile anyway and took a breath. Okay, time for the big reveal.

“I-I wanted to tell you- um I’m not even sure if you’ll care but- I wanted to tell you that I got top surgery. Like, a few years ago,” he said quietly. Immediately, Klaus’ eyes lit up like fireworks. With a huge smile on his face, he jumped off of his bed, scrambled over the floor to where Diego was sitting, and gave him the most genuine hug he had felt for a very long time.

After what felt like hours but must’ve only been a few seconds, Klaus let Diego go, sitting more comfortably next to him. On the floor. Of his own room.

“Hell yeah! Did it go well?” Klaus asked, excitement bubbling in his voice. Diego briefly wondered why he had been so hesitant to tell him anything. He laughed softly.

“Perfectly… Eu-Eudora, she supported me so much. It went really well,” he said. Klaus nodded sincerely. They both missed Eudora. She was a godsend- really.

“She was a good person,” Klaus said, patting Diego on the shoulder. Diego couldn’t help but smile for what seemed like the one-hundredth time that day.

“She was…”

The two of them sat together for an unspecified amount of time in the quiet glow of Klaus’ room. Then, without warning, Klaus stood up and started rummaging through a pile of clothes on the floor. He threw a pair of leather pants over his shoulder and it landed on Diego’s face, which was kinda gross.

“We should find Vanya and team up against the remaining heteros in this household,” Klaus said matter-of-factly. His eyes focussed on an empty spot in the room. He looked as if he was considering something.

“Ben’s an honorary gay by association,” he concluded. Diego laughed- he had forgotten how brilliant his brother really was.

“Good idea. Does Luther even know you’re pan?” Diego asked, trying took look at whatever Klaus was trying to find. He didn’t have to try for very long, however, because Klaus suddenly turned around with a dramatic spin, holding a large rainbow pride flag in his hands and grinning like a madman. He wrapped the flag around his waist like a skirt and clapped his hands together.

“He doesn’t even know what pan means, brother dearest.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Requests are always open in the comments!


	3. Smoking At Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @Tropicana:
> 
> Hey I love these one shot threads and I’m so glad you’re doing one! Hmmm can I request a one shot where Klaus gets Luther to smoke weed but then it turns out Luther is allergic? Could be played for comedy or angst depending on how severe you want the reaction to be. :P

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one is sad but kinda funny so I'd say I managed angst AND comedy. Also, I'm pretty sure I have no idea how drugs work so if something here is wrong sorry!! Hope you enjoy <3

For @Tropicana

Fittingly, it had been a dark and stormy 24 hours in and around the umbrella academy. Fitting, only because everyone seemed to be similarly volatile, lots of arguments and the like. Knives and punches were thrown etc etc… 

At the current-present-now-time, however, the night sky was the clearest it had been in months. The air was cool and windless and just the right kind of humid like the fallout from an earth-levelling bomb and Klaus just  _ had _ to get out and enjoy it. His skin itched like he was still going through withdrawal and he desperately needed to be outside.

So outside he went.

The light of the moon cast gentle shadows across his worn face as he leaned on the dark railings of the second-floor balcony. Stars reflected in his sad, green eyes, and his smudged eyeliner mirrored the void of space as he stared up at its infinite, black expanse. Crickets sounded loudly across the land below, a melodic distraction from screaming ghosts. The air smelt like fresh-cut, damp grass and honey. It was almost too pretty to ruin it with the weed that burnt a hole in his pocket. Almost.

Ben wasn’t happy with him, but it was the last of his stash, and he wasn’t having the best of days.

What Klaus was wearing was about as exceptional (and pitifully depressing) as the man himself. Well- ‘man’ is a funny word, but that wasn’t really the point. A long-but-floaty skirt hung loosely from his too-skinny hips, accompanied by his favourite thick, feathery coat and- as always- two silver dog-tags (which, by the way, no one had commented on yet). The cold and metallic press of the tags against his chest were a welcome contrast to the rest of the outfit. The fabrics felt abrasive, like sandpaper on his skin. Itchy.

He was barefoot- of course, he never wore shoes because they were too restrictive- but his nails weren’t painted, and they hadn’t been for weeks. No one had noticed. Why would they? It wasn’t as if that was one of the many signs that he was having a not-so-great time. It wasn’t as if he also hadn’t worn any of his pretty jewellery for days either. It wasn’t as if everyone was too busy fighting to even see the haunted (ha) look in his dead (haha) eyes. No, Klaus was fine. And totally not about to relapse. He was  _ fine _ .

He heard Luther approach before he saw him. In fact, he didn’t even bother to look back at his brother, just continued to hold back tears whilst thinking about  _ certain events _ .

“Hey,” Klaus croaked in a piss-poor attempt at hiding his emotions. He could practically hear Luther startle. Was his coat that dark? Or did he always just blend into the background.

“Uh… Hello,” Luther said, awkward and overly-formal (much like the man himself) “Sorry, I’ll just go-”

“Woah Woah Woah-” Klaus said, holding out an arm. Because as much as he hated the way his siblings treated him, he really didn’t want to be alone right now.

“What’s the matter?” he asked. Luther approached and stood next to Klaus on the balcony, frowning in a way that resembled dad way too closely. He could almost hear him saying the words _ three more hours, number four _ . He could definitely picture it.

“I- what?” Luther asked. He wasn’t used to people asking him if he was okay since  _ apparently _ he complained too much anyway. Klaus rolled his eyes and let out a very exaggerated sigh.

“You’re at the  _ sad balcony _ , something must be wrong,” he said in a matter-of-fact tone that he just  _ loved _ to use. It hid the fact that he was bullshitting. Obviously. Luther shifted uncomfortably.

“This is the… sad balcony?” he asked with such an innocent tone Klaus might have called it saddening. Y’know, if it wasn’t hilarious. But- oh my god- Luther looked legitimately  _ concerned _ . Like, he was probably thinking ‘oh no why is my  _ useless junkie brother  _ at the  _ sad balcony _ !! I must inform the others because no one in  _ my _ family is allowed to have a negative emotion!’ or something. 

“Don’t tell me you didn’t  _ know _ that,” Klaus said, incredibly amused by his own shenanigans. At least it took his mind away from the  _ weed in his pocket. _

“Okay, well, yeah,” Luther said as if he knew what he was talking about. Klaus nearly died right then and there from the sheer humour of it all. But instead, he inhaled sharply and bit his lip. Beside him, Luther sighed. Klaus sniffed just for the drama of it all and received the distinct smell of Luther. He still wore the same cologne he did when they were teens, huh?

“I guess I  _ am _ here for a reason,” Luther said, uncharacteristically quiet. Oh. Klaus wasn’t expecting family therapy to come out of his little joke. For the first time in the whole exchange, he turned to look at his brother. The dude looked… kind of recked, really. Okay, it was time to be a good brother. Show a little compassion or whatever. Basically, do the opposite of what Luther would do for him.

“And that is?” he settled with, because that was the best he could do. Luther gazed longingly into the sky, because of course he did.

“Wanted to see the moon,” he said. Klaus repressed a sigh.

“Really?” he asked instead, through gritted teeth. He tried to sound interested, he really did, but he wasn’t sure that Luther bought it. Nonetheless, Luther frowned, looking deeply upset. He pointed to the moon.

“I sometimes wonder if it would be better if I was up there,” He said, and Klaus startled.

“Hold on, what? Why would you think that?” he asked, nervously tapping his left arm with his right hand. Luther grimaced. He already knew why the dude thought that. Diego said it pretty much every time they had a fight: ‘why don’t you do us a favour and fly on back to the moon, ape-brain?’ Their fights were brutal- personal- like that.

“Well, I was the one who caused-”

“Oh shut up!” Klaus interrupted in a sudden burst of outspoken courage, “We all had a part in Vanya’s breakdown, you were just one of many catalysts-”

“You know what a catalyst is?” Luther asked, deadpan. What an insult to his intelligence!

“Not really the point, is it?” Klaus retorted, sticking his tongue out. He threw a hand into one of his coat’s deep pockets. Searching, searching, searching for that sweet, sweet  _ em jay _ .

“No…” Luther mumbled whilst Klaus fished around in his coat some more. Then he turned around with one (count ‘em, one) perfectly rolled joint. He held it out towards his brother, who didn’t notice the little twitch in his hands.

“Here, you should try this,” he said, voice strained. He practically thrust the joint at Luther, desperate for someone to take it away. Take away the temptation. Take away his options.

“Klaus! You shouldn’t even have this!” Luther cried. Klaus cringed.

“That’s irrelevant,” he argued, “It’ll take your mind off of… everything.” He wasn’t wrong and Luther knew it. The giant man looked down at Klaus, then at the joint, then at Klaus. It was excruciatingly quiet. The cogs in Luther’s brain seemed to be spinning at double speed.

“You  _ know _ what happened last time,” he finally said. Klaus nodded frantically and stared up at his brother with his watery eyes that caught the light and shone like stars. He was like a cat begging for food. Fucking pathetic.

“Yeah. I died. It’s fine-” it was not fine- “we’re in a controlled environment this time,” Klaus said in a reassuring tone. Luther shook his head.

“Controlled environment? What’s that supposed to mean?” he asked, rubbing his temples in frustration. 

“Y-Y’know, the rules of drugging up,” Klaus said, perking up a little. Then he started to count on his fingers as he spoke.

“Know your dosage, be with people you trust, keep calm, know the effects etcetera etcetera,” he trailed off. Luther paused for a few moments, and sighed, silently reaching out a hand for Klaus to place the joint onto. He did so, and Luther just stared at the thing like it was going to jump up and kill him any second. 

Klaus handed him a pink and sparkly lighter.

“Go for it!” he said.

Luther, in an unbelievable loss of willpower, went for it.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

 

Half an hour later Luther was done with the joint and he wasn’t actually all that high. Klaus knew this would happen, because Luther isn’t a scrawny ex-addict who hasn’t eaten in a few days. The two of them were very different, so it would take different amounts of shit to get the  _ really good _ effects. Unfortunately, Klaus had no more weed. But that didn’t really bother him.

What did bother him was the fact that Luther looked like he had taken a lot more than he really had. His eyes were red- and puffy, not a great sign- he kept on stumbling around like an idiot, and he looked pretty goddamn nauseous. Klaus cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Oh shit, you don’t look so good-”

“I’m gonna throw up,” Luther interrupted before promptly upholding his promise all over Klaus’ feet.

“Shit!” he shouted, jumping backwards. Holy fuck that was gross. Klaus sighed, he knew this wasn’t a good idea. He should’ve just smoked by himself and let that be the end of it. He slapped Luther on the shoulder supportively.

“Okay, let's get you some water,”

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

 

“What the hell just happened?” Luther groaned, resting his head on the edge of a toilet seat. Klaus ran a hand through his hair, completely exhausted.

“I think- and this is just a  _ wild guess _ \- that you’re allergic to weed,” he said, voice cracking lightly. The whole situation was kind of laughable, really. He could see the headline now:  _ Recovering addict tries to get rid of weed by letting his brother who hates him smoke it, brother has an allergic reaction and throws up… a lot.  _ Okay, that was a long headline but his point still stood. 

“Oh,” Luther said in a tiny whisper, also tired out of his mind. He didn’t add anything else, unsurprisingly. Klaus scoffed.

“You’re a terrible conversationalist,” he said as if it mattered. It wasn’t like Luther was going to have some deep and personal conversation about life with his junkie brother who just gave him drugs that he was allergic to. 

“I was on the moon-”

“On the moon for four years for no reason. We know,” Klaus finished the sentence for him in a tone dripping with resentment. Luther looked around the room with hazy and confused eyes. Now Klaus knew how Ben felt every night for seventeen years. Was it even seventeen? He had no idea. Ben probably did though. The paranoid bastard probably kept count or some shit-

“We? Is Ben here?” Speak of the devil. Klaus met Luther’s eyes and shook his head, placing his hands on his hips. 

“No, that was the royal ‘we’. Because I am royalty,” he said, deflecting in true Klaus fashion. In reality, he had no idea where Ben was. He had left when he saw Klaus pick up the last of his weed, and he hadn’t seen the ghost since then. Klaus just hoped he wasn’t disappointed enough to pass on to another life, leaving him all alone. Well, not  _ alone _ , clearly.  _ Never _ alone.

“I see,” Luther said, voice still weak. A strong and awkward silence fell between them for a minute. Then two. Then th-

“Well! I’m gonna go tell Allison that you did drugs,” Klaus said with a clap of his hands and a 180 spin that could rival Olympic skaters. Then he was off like a bullet train down the hallway, with a shocked and disgruntled Luther not far behind.

“You little shit! Get back here asshole!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave feedback and requests in the comments, as well as kudos if you haven't already! Trying to get these done quickly without sacrificing quality, the next one might be a while :)


	4. Against The World

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @little_coffins:  
> Mmm... Maybe one where it's them at the Academy when they were kids, and Five, Vanya and Ben are hanging out together? I love the idea of a close friendship between the lot of them!
> 
> @Meowe:  
> If you want to, could you write a Vanya and Five oneshot about their friendship as children (or present day, whatever is easier!!)? I personally find their friendship super cute and I wish we got more of it in the show haha. Please and thank you :)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I combined these because they were so similar. I'm quite happy with this chapter so yehaw! Hope you enjoy!

For @little_coffins and @Meowe

Number Seven stared at the music in front of her as she played her violin. The notes called out to her like birdsong, drifting through the air of her small and undecorated room. Every wrong note caused her to flinch, but every perfect note made her heart soar. It was like magic. She was so engrossed in her music, in fact, that she didn’t notice her bedroom door open.

“Vanya?” a familiar voice sounded from across the room. Vanya jumped, almost dropping her violin in the process. She turned around, startled, but relaxed when she saw who it was at her door.

“Oh, hey Five- what’s up?” She asked, setting her violin gently on her bed. Number Five was still in his Academy uniform, so it couldn’t be after curfew yet.

“The sky,” he said, Vanya rolled her eyes, “Just wanted to hang out I guess.” He entered the room in a more withdrawn manner than Vanya was used to, but maintained his general confident air. The door closed carefully behind him.

“Really? With me?” Vanya asked, a little shocked. It wasn’t exactly often that her superpowered siblings actually  _ wanted _ to hang out with her. Five nodded, sitting down on the floor next to Vanya’s desk.

“I don’t see why not. Just because you don’t have powers doesn’t mean we can’t hang out,” he replied, stretching his arms into the air and wincing. Ah, he’d come back from training, then. Vanya had heard the others complaining about how much their muscles hurt after training.

“Oh, okay! I’m just practising the violin right now- but I can stop if you want to do something more interesting,” Vanya said. She didn’t want Five to get bored. She didn’t want him to leave after she had built her hopes up.

“No, I’ll just listen. I like hearing you play- you’re good at it,” Five reassured her, leaning his head against the desk. Vanya smiled, a warm and happy feeling fluttering in her soul. She tried to contain her smile when she spoke, making her voice break slightly.

“Oh… Thanks.”

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

 

It became something like a tradition. Five would visit Vanya, Vanya would play the violin, Five would sit and listen. Sometimes they would talk, too. About their days- their weeks if it had been a while. Five promised not to bring up training or missions, knowing that Vanya felt left out by the rest of her siblings. Vanya appreciated it. It was nice for both of them. Five would get a chance to feel like a normal kid, and Vanya would feel a little less like an outcast in her own home.

One particular day, Vanya had just finished a piece on her violin. The duo let the last note ring out through the silence, breathing in the atmosphere of it all. Vanya smiled in an on-brand-shy kind of fashion, and Five was just about to compliment her, when he was interrupted by a knock at the door. Well, ‘knock’ is a strong word. It was more a series of gentle taps, created by the rapid, repeated motion of individual fingers against the surface. Very distinctly, Ben.

Sure enough, the door creaked open slightly to reveal the worried face of Number Six- Ben. He wore a frown, but he did most days. He must’ve just come back from individual training- Five realised- judging by the haunted look his eyes harboured, and the way his left hand rested carefully on his abdomen. 

“Hey,” he said in the small voice that everyone had grown accustomed to listening out for, “What are you guys doing?” 

“Vanya’s playing the violin,” Five said- scoffing- as if it wasn’t obvious. He did  _ not _ want extra (and depressingly timid) company today. Or any day. Ben focussed his eyes on the floor. 

“Oh…” he said in a somewhat dejected tone. Vanya gave him the kindest, sweetest smile she could. Five just glared at him, impatiently tapping his fingers against Vanya’s desk.

“Do you want to listen too?” Vanya offered, causing Five to give her an  _ extremely _ offended look. It was supposed to be  _ their _ thing! Five and Vanya, Vanya and Five, against the world. Not Five, Vanya, and Ben. Why must his sister be so welcoming?

In response to Vanya’s question, Ben’s eyes lit up and he smiled at his sister, disbelief written all over his face. He didn’t move from his placement behind the door, however. He never was one to intrude. Instead, he turned his attention towards Five, who was still scowling at him (though not quite as intensely) and shot him an apologetic glance.

“If- If it’s okay,” he said, directing his words to both of his siblings. Vanya nodded, the smile on her face never ceasing to fade. 

“Of course,” she said, beginning to set up her next piece on her music stand. Ben turned to Five, waiting for his answer. And Five tried to say no, truly- he did! But Ben was giving him the worst case of sad puppy-dog eyes he’d ever had to battle, and he couldn’t help but feel sorry for him, and it would break Vanya’s heart to reject their most innocent and pure and loving brother. Dammit! Why was Ben so persuasive? A master of emotional manipulation, Five was sure that was his real power. 

Sighing, Five rested his head against Vanya’s desk. He was too tired for this. He gave Ben a weak and sarcastic thumbs up.

“Fine.”

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

 

From then on it was no longer just Five and Vanya against the world. It was Five, Vanya, and Ben.  

Then Five was gone, and it was just Vanya and Ben (and, if he was around, which he hardly ever was, Klaus). It wasn’t the same.

And then, when Ben died, Vanya couldn’t stand to live in the Academy anymore. She moved out a month after Klaus- at least she actually went to the funeral. It wasn’t like there was anyone left to miss her at home, anyway. 

Ben missed her. Five, distantly, years into the future, did the same.

She missed them, too.

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

 

Almost two decades later, Vanya and Five were situated in the exact same spots in Vanya’s childhood bedroom that they always used to sit in. They had been talking about Vanya’s new powers, and what ways the team (because they were all a team again now, apparently) could help her control it. Yeah, they  _ had _ been talking about that, but it seemed their conversation had strayed into something more personal. 

“Do you ever wonder what it would be like if you’d stayed?” Vanya asked, absent-mindedly reading through old violin music from her beginner days. Five grimaced, but eventually nodded.

“All the time,” he said. Vanya looked up at him. The warm light from her bedside lamp reflected in her eyes and defined her features. It made her look tragic, fragile, exhausted, terrified. Five wondered what had led to her becoming such an empty shell of her previous self, but the answers were too blatant to dwell on. It was mostly dad, right? It wasn’t- it couldn’t be  _ him _ . His disappearance- 

As if she had read his mind, Vanya quickly turned back to her music, pretending to focus on it. A feeble attempt at removing the tension in the air. She even hummed a little, following the notes in her head, but abruptly stopped when the lamp started to flicker.

“Did… Did you think about us? Y’know- when you were, um, there?” she asked, mind buzzing. Five rolled his eyes, just because it was what he was used to doing.

“Obviously.”

“We always talked about running away together- do you remember?” Vanya prompted, nerves scraping away at her voice. Five turned and gave her a gentle smile, which he wasn’t so used to doing. 

“Yeah. You, me-”

“And Ben,” she interrupted. Five grinned.

“And Ben! Against the world-” his expression soured- “In the end, it was just me.” An uncomfortable silence fell between them after that. Vanya went back to staring at her music but she couldn’t even make sense of the notes anymore. Five just stared listlessly at the wall, thinking about what was worse, this or the apocalypse. 

Now, Five had not expected Vanya to be the one to break the silence, but it wasn’t like he was about to.

“As soon as Ben… I left as soon as I could, took on the world by myself, wrote my book. I felt like I was doing it all in your memory,” she whispered, completely unprompted. Five raised an eyebrow at her.

“The book?” he asked. She nodded.

“Both of you had shit lives because of da- Reginald’s methods. It seemed like I was getting revenge, in my own way,” she explained. Five almost laughed at the word ‘shit’ coming from his innocent little sister’s mouth, but instead, he just gave her a comforting smile. They were all adults now, they were allowed to swear. 

It was still weird.

“It  _ was _ shitty, and the book was great- exposing all the family secrets. Read it three times,” Five said. It was true, he read that book as much as he could- both for clues towards figuring out what ended the world and for an idea of what his dear siblings grew up to be like. Inconsiderate, immature man-babies... or dead, it seemed. Five could’ve guessed that before he even left.

“Really?” Vanya exclaimed, visibly shocked that anyone had even bothered to read her book. Five wasn’t sure why, though. It was quite entertaining.

“Mhmm. I wasn’t surprised about Klaus’ descent into addiction, by the way. Or Allison’s escape into super-stardom. Though, now I know why… I can’t fucking blame them,” he said. Vanya sighed, rubbing the back of her neck. It was sore from leaning over to stare at her music for so long. She looked as miserable as ever.

“I feel terrible for writing most of that stuff. I mean, we were all messed up, and I blamed  _ them _ instead of  _ him _ ,” she said, and Five got it- yeah. Sure, Vanya could’ve been nicer to her siblings and nastier to dad, but what purpose would it even serve? She was angry and alone and needed a way to vent, and now she was feeling bad about it? Everything had already been forgiven, regardless.

“At least we averted the apocalypse this time, eh?” Five said as a desperate attempt to cheer his sister up. Vanya smiled, but it didn’t reach the eyes.

“I never thought that playing the violin could be so destructive,” she said, voice soft. She was only half serious, Five could tell. He wanted to get her to laugh.

“I knew you were always  _ supernaturally _ good at it,” he quipped, tone dripping with sarcasm. He looked Vanya dead in the eyes, and Vanya looked back with a falsely-serious expression.

“Hilarious,” she said, deadpan. She couldn’t keep a straight face for long, not whilst looking at Five, so she finally broke and let out a giggle. Five grinned, proud of himself.

“Would you play something?” he asked, eyeing the violin tucked neatly into the corner of the room. Vanya smiled, something melancholy. 

“One day, when I can control my power. Violin music is always so emotional,” she murmured. Five nodded, he knew not to push her. That violin was always her favourite hobby (clearly) and he imagined it probably hurt to be unable to do the thing you’ve always loved.

“I’ll mark a date in my diary,” Five said with a wave of his hand (to represent writing in a diary?). 

“Just like old times?” Vanya asked, a smirk rising at the corners of her mouth. Five smiled straight back.

“ _ Exactly _ like old times.”

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hope you all enjoyed that! Don't forget to leave Kudos, feedback and requests :) have a great day!!


	5. HELLO. GOODBYE.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @Em :  
> Yes no worries! Basically any sort of Klaus angst and then comfort from his siblings would be great hahaha you can pick what he’s angsty about😂

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ok so there's not much sibling comfort but like,,, uhh,, sorry,, I got carried away writing this and now it's 5000 words whoops??? Hope you enjoy anyway!!

For @Em

After the umbrella academy saved the world, after dealing with Reginald again, after Five got them back into their adult bodies, after  _ everything  _ with the apocalypse… it was time to go back to normal, whatever that meant.

Allison left, she wanted to figure things out with Patrick. You know, like a normal person. Klaus didn’t think it was normal. Everyone was being so…  _ nice  _ all the time. Diego and Luther were acting like best friends, Vanya seemed carefree and joyful, Five learned to chill out, even Ben was more talkative than ever. And he was a fucking ghost! 

Then again, it wasn’t like Klaus stayed the same, either.

He thought he was doing well. No drugs, no alcohol, no fucking around- he was clean. He was happier than he’d been in a long goddamn time, and everybody could see it. All smiles and dancing, Klaus Hargreeves was a changed man. He was working on making Ben corporeal again, and secretly trying to summon Dave. And then- powers aside- he was attempting to build his relationships with the siblings still in the house.

He was doing the dishes when it happened. It was the radio- the fucking radio! Klaus was just minding his business, holding a plate, dancing on the spot. The radio host said something about ‘sounds of the sixties’. Klaus smiled, closed his eyes, hummed,  tilted his head back. Life was good. The music started to play:

_ Dirty old river, must you keep rolling, rolling into the night _

_ People so busy, make me feel dizzy, taxi light shines so bright _

Grinning like an idiot, Klaus swayed to the music. The song was familiar in a strange kind of way. Yes, of course, Klaus knew the song- it was popular- but something about it just felt so  _ comforting _ . Like a warm embrace from a loved one. Eyes still closed, Klaus spun around on the spot, ballroom dancing with the plate.

_ Terry meets Julie, Waterloo Station, every Friday night _

_ But I am so lazy, don't want to wander, I stay at home at night _

Klaus brought the plate to his chest, hugging it and bringing his chin down to rest on the surface. It was cold, and Klaus shuddered, but he didn’t mind all that much. The music filled his head, and all he could focus on was the words. They sounded distant, echoed, but close and intimate at the same time. 

_ Every day I look at the world from my window _

_ Chilly chilly is the evening time, Waterloo sunset's fine _

When Klaus finally opened his eyes, he wasn’t in the kitchen. Orange lights flooded the scene. It was warm. The distinct smell of rubber and stagnant water consumed his senses, overpowering the music that was still playing. Everything retained its echo, and everything was green. Klaus was surrounded by people dancing. They smelt like they were dying- most of them were. Soon… 

Fuck,  _ that’s _ where he was.

Klaus took in a sharp breath, eyes wide, as he keeled over and onto his knees. The people- soldiers- didn’t notice. Like he was invisible. His throat tightened like he was being choked and he coughed over and over. He couldn’t breathe. Then he vomited, but it was more bile than anything. Holy fuck. Klaus clawed at the ground, picking up dirt with his fingernails. His body hurt like hell, and he didn’t know  _ why _ . A hand touched his shoulder, but it felt like he was being shot. He shuddered, suddenly freezing.

“You okay?” Someone asked from behind Klaus. He shook his head, coughing some more. When he turned around to see the person, their face was blurred out- of course. Klaus blinked rapidly, trying to go back home. Was he home? Did he never leave Vietnam? He couldn’t breathe. Fuck! He couldn’t breathe! The world spun into flashes of colour and seconds of darkness. It was all so fast. And loud. Klaus covered his ears and screwed his eyes shut. He screamed and screamed and screamed, begging to be sent back home. 

_ And they don't, need no friends _

_ As long as they gaze on Waterloo Sunset, they are in paradise _

Klaus opened his eyes and he was in the kitchen again. Tears glossing over his eyes, he stared at the wall- catatonic and quiet. The cold tiles on the floor were scratched up, bloodied in the same way as Klaus’ fingers and palms. HELLO. GOODBYE. Shards of white ceramic covered the floor. An acidic smell filled the air as he vacantly looked straight ahead.

The music faded into nothing.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------

 

The next time it happened was equally as unexpected. It had been two weeks without another incident, and Klaus had started to feel better. He hadn’t told anyone about it yet- hell, he hadn’t told anyone about  _ Vietnam _ yet- except Ben. Ben knew everything. How could he not? The only time he’d ever been away from Klaus was when he was in ‘Nam. 

Again, Klaus was alone when it started. He was just walking down the street, oh so mundanely. He reacted to the sound of helicopter engines before he really heard them. On the ground with his hands above his head, Klaus was back in Vietnam. Again. The jungle, with his fellow soldiers, his  _ friends _ , beside him. They were going to die, they were all going to die. Fuck. Klaus crawled forwards through the dirt.

The air was hot and heavy, Klaus could barely see what was going on. The sound of helicopters dissolved into the distance. He gagged when he smelt the napalm.

The jungle was loud. It always was. As Klaus crawled across the wet earth he listened closely to each individual noise in the air. The calls of birds and lizards were ear-splitting but oddly comforting, a sign that there was at least something thriving in this bloody, war-wrecked place. There’d always be gunfire, and explosions, near or far- it didn’t matter. As long as he didn’t get hit. The men around him were loud too, in their own way. Each person’s breath was like hearing nails against a chalkboard- Klaus wanted to shush them- and they each ran the risk of alerting the enemy in one way or another. 

Until, of course, everything was quiet. 

It was horribly unnerving, the way the whole jungle would just go silent. All the animals, all the people, the wind through the leaves, would all just stop. The seconds were agonising, Klaus reached for Dave- neither of them knew what was going to happen now. 

Then the sound of something falling. An intake of breath from Dave. Then the jungle was ripped apart by the sound of something exploding. Klaus screamed and covered his ears, letting go of Dave. He shut his eyes and felt warm- no, burning- air start to slap him in the face.

He opened his eyes and he wasn’t staring into the abyss of the Vietnamese jungle, he was looking at the cracks in the pavement two blocks from his home. And the street was a different kind of loud.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------

 

When the 4th of July came around Klaus didn’t even bother trying to be optimistic. I mean, come on! That’s  _ the _ classic trigger for war vets, right? So he locked himself in his room and tried to talk to Ben.

_ I just don’t understand why you can’t tell them about it,  _ Ben said with a concerned expression written on his face. Klaus was immune to that particular expression, obviously. He just rolled his eyes and gripped his bedsheets tightly.

“ _ Because _ , dearest brother of mine, they will not believe me,” Klaus retorted with a sad smile. Ben scoffed and crossed his arms, another classic move. 

_ You don’t know that...  _ He said. Klaus rolled the idea around in his head for a few moments. Instead of replying, he stood up and closed the curtains over his bedroom window. Then, pausing for only a second, he walked to the other side of the room and made sure his door was locked for the third time in half an hour. Though he fully understood that this wouldn’t keep his troubles at bay, he let out a sigh of relief as if he had actually prevented something.

_ That’s- This isn’t helping, Klaus.  _ Ben gave him a look of disappointment. Klaus frowned. 

“Shut up,” he mumbled, letting his body fall limply onto his bed. He could feel the springs digging into his back- strangely similar to the conditions he got used to in Vietnam. Back to back with fellow soldiers, to give a 360 viewpoint advantage for spotting the enemy. Dave explained that to him. Klaus shuddered, he could feel himself slipping away. Now he just wanted some speed- the medics gave it to them to keep them awake. How messed up was that? Even in the Vietnam fucking War Klaus couldn’t get away from drugs. Fuck, now he couldn’t even take a nap without thinking about it. 

He barely registered the first explosion, which was both a good and bad sign. Klaus was still caught up in the fact that he actually fought in an actual war. It was a concept he hadn’t completely acknowledged yet. He killed people, and those people killed people, and the people that those people killed stuck around- at least for a little while. When hundreds of ghosts are blocking your vision, it makes it harder to see the enemy.

God, when did he start thinking like that?

When the next firework sounded from outside the house, something inside Klaus’ brain snapped back into a working condition. His body jolted, eyes wide and terrified. He screamed, but covered his mouth and bit into his hand to stop the sound. He had to keep quiet. His mouth tasted metallic.

Ben was calling his name from what seemed like a mile away, from the other side of the room. No, Klaus wasn’t there anymore. To him, his brother was just one of the pained, angry ghosts that clouded his murky vision of a dark jungle.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------

 

Three days later, Diego and Vanya knew something was wrong. Klaus had  _ said _ he was going sober, he had  _ said _ he was over drugs, he  _ said _ he was clean. But when had they ever trusted Klaus’ word?

So they were searching their brother’s room.

To be fair, they didn’t feel particularly good about it. Vanya especially didn’t want to invade her brother’s personal space, but… she wasn’t convinced that he was still clean. The vacant looks he gave her, the trembling, the jumpiness- she didn’t want it to be true. But what other explanation could there be?

Still, as Diego threw clothes and pillows around Klaus’ bedroom, Vanya couldn’t help but hope that they wouldn’t find anything at all. 

Meanwhile, Klaus was trying to take a bath. Keyword -  _ trying _ . He used to love baths. They were a luxury when he was living on the streets. They were welcome in rehab. They were  _ rare _ . The scent of luscious bath salts was once soft and inviting, the warmth of the water was a relaxing embrace. An escape. Now though, he dreaded it all. 

He wasn’t sure what about the bath triggered his… episodes. It could be the sound of running water- like helicopter blades or gunfire. It wasn’t pleasant, but Klaus couldn’t just  _ not _ bathe. He wasn’t a homeless junkie anymore and he didn’t want to smell like one. And perhaps this was a cruel trick from god herself, but there was still a small part of his fucked up mind that wanted to believe that baths could make him happy again. That one day he’d just  _ get better.  _

Which is obviously how Klaus ended up on the bathroom floor, loosely wrapped in a fluffy blue towel, soaking wet with his head in his hands, reliving a particularly horrid memory that doesn’t bear repeating. He was looking all broken and pathetic and tortured. Or possibly just high. You know how it is. HELLO. GOODBYE.

Across the house, Diego suddenly froze in his task of pulling clothes out of Klaus’ closet, prompting Vanya to look up from her search under his bed.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” She asked with a heightened tone. Diego stared into the unknown depths of the closet with an expression Vanya couldn’t pinpoint. He sighed shakily.

“He lied to us,” Diego muttered, spitting the words out like they were bitter poison. Standing up, Vanya shook her head.

“What?” she asked. She tried to crane her neck to see past Diego, to see what he was looking at on the bottom of the closet. But before she could see what he was looking at, Diego bent down and grabbed whatever it was, with such sudden force that it made Vanya flinch.

“He fucking lied to us!” Diego said, turning around. Clutched in his trembling hand was a small, labelless glass bottle- half filled with little orange pills. Vanya frowned and looked away. No. It couldn’t be true. She wouldn’t believe it. Klaus  _ promised _ her he would stop! But the evidence was right there. The cap on the bottle wasn’t even shut properly, and it had smudges of black all over it. 

“He couldn’t even wait for his nail polish to dry, huh?” Diego said with a dry and humourless laugh. Without warning, he threw the bottle to the floor, watching it silently as it smashed into a million pieces. The glass looked like crystals of fresh frost surrounding the pills that seemed to run towards every secret corner of the room. Vanya said nothing as she looked out over the scene.  

“Come on, we’ve got to find the bastard before he overdoses or something,” Diego said, completely devoid of emotion. Stepping over the colourful minefield of broken glass and circular pills, he exited the room. Vanya followed meekly behind, terrified of what her brother might decide to do. 

 

\----------------------------------------------------------

 

When they found Klaus, he was just coming down from his flashback. Or, in the eyes of Vanya and Diego, coming down from a high. It wasn’t the most pleasant scene, and Diego was eerily quiet the whole time, but it was going to happen sooner or later, really.

After Klaus had put some actual clothes on (mindless, robotic) Diego called a family meeting. Everyone was there, barring Allison, but no doubt she would hear the news soon. Klaus sat like a statue, cross-legged on the couch, and stared into the blank space above Luther’s head. He wasn’t quite with it yet, forming cognitive thoughts was a struggle, but he knew that Ben wasn’t around. 

“What the fuck, Klaus?” Diego said, from somewhere to his right.

“Hm?” Klaus hummed. He knew that they had found the pills, he heard Diego telling everyone. Disappointment, regret, hurt, betrayal, whatever. Who cares, really? His head hurt. His muscles ached. The screams of his friends were stuck in his head. Who cares what his family thought about him? 

“You said you were clean- sober!” Luther said.

“Mhm,” was his only reply. 

“Come on, Klaus. How are we supposed to take you seriously if you can’t even do one simple thing?” Five spoke, clearly angry. Klaus ran a hand through his damp hair, expression blank. Now his hand was damp, too. He wiped it on the couch. Honestly, he really couldn’t deal with this shit right now. Why the hell didn’t he lock the bathroom door?

“Yeah! I mean, how fucking hard is it to just…  _ not _ get high?” Diego said, exasperated. A few murmurs of agreement echoed across the room, blending in with the cries of several ghosts. Klaus wasn't sure when the ghosts arrived, but he wasn't going to ask. Wherever his family went, spirits were sure to follow. Haha, spirits. Like alcohol. How hilarious. Klaus felt the corners of his lips turn up into a subconscious smile, but his eyes remained generally blank. 

“It’s harder than you’d think,” he spoke decisively, despite his voice coming out in something that resembled a whisper. Luther gave him a look that let Klaus know that he didn't believe him. Well, of course he didn't. No one ever did. It had always been  _ stop lying about the ghosts, Klaus! Stop lying about Ben, Klaus! You're power isn't even that bad, Klaus!  _ As if they knew. As if! If they could just see what it was like to be him… HELLO. GOODBYE.

“It feels like you’re not trying,” Vanya finally spoke up, though it was almost inaudible. And- fuck- that hurt. But he didn't let them see. He just grinned, obviously fake and condescending, and waved his hand around a little. He felt high, in a way. In a  _ bad _ way.

“I’m surprised you aren't on my side, Vanya- my dearest sister,” he said. The words hurt his throat, and they sounded broken and quiet like a scratched record. Klaus shivered. The air was cold, but it always was. Nothing about the Academy was warm. It was all stone and brick and tile. And the man who built the place, the man who  _ raised _ them- well, he reflected that coldness in his every move. 

Which was perhaps the reason they all turned out so fucked up.  _ Perhaps _ . But none of them, not even Luther, held that freezing, biting, blistering cold within them. Klaus hadn't even shivered due to the cold, it was a reaction to the incredibly hurt and confused look his sister was giving him. Ah, that's right, he promised her he would stay sober. Sorry Vanya.

“What?” the sister in question asked, though it was a choked and unpleasant sound.  

“Power suppressants,” Klaus mumbled, eyes not meeting anyone in the room, “I was never high. This meeting really was a waste!” He clapped his hands together, startling Five and Diego. Vanya was pale and shuddering, but Klaus assured himself that she would get over it. It was selfish, maybe, to ignore his sister’s own tragic past in favour of his. But, then again, it was also his tragic present and future that was at stake. Klaus almost laughed, it was like  _ A Christmas Carol _ ! With all the ghosts and the past, present, future bullshit and- well, that was sort of where the resemblance ended, actually. No redeeming character arc for Klaus. Not today!

What had he been doing? Oh, yes! He turned to Luther, who was glaring daggers at him (wasn't it Number Two who had the knife powers?).

“Klaus-”

“Now if it’s okay with you, I’d like to go back to doing what I was doing,” he cut the ape-man off. Standing up, he began to walk swiftly away, but a large hand stopped him in his tracks. Dammit Luther.

“Why the hell would  _ you _ need power suppressants?” he asked, tone laced with frustration. Klaus frowned- or sneered- at his brother. They wanted to know? Ok, fine. He'd tell them.

“Because,  _ dear brother _ , not all of us have the luxury of a simple, easy, controllable power,” he replied with a sarcastic smile. He didn’t turn to leave this time.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Five asked. Wow, Klaus had almost forgotten the little bastard was there! 

“We aren’t unpacking all of that right now,” he said, attempting to leave again.

“Yes, we are, sit down,” Luther said, in his ‘I’m the leader’ voice. Something about the way he said it made Klaus freeze. It reminded him of dad, he supposed. Or maybe his commanding officer. Yes, that was more accurate. That was… unnerving. Luther would be great in a war- who knew? Wow, he thought about war too much. It had been over three months and he was  _ still _ caught up in the shit? Damn, maybe Klaus was more messed up than he originally thought. Although he probably should've known that by now, what with the PTSD he'd been denying for all this time. 

“Please tell us what’s going on, Klaus. You’ve been acting strange lately, and now this?” Vanya said and- dammit, again? Klaus just couldn't say no to her disappointed face. What a shame. He sighed and sat down.

“Okay, okay- fine! But be warned, this isn’t a pretty story.” 

In the end, he told them everything. The mausoleum, the ghosts, how his addictions started, life on the streets, the helpfulness of Ben, rehab, overdosing, being kidnapped, tortured, Vietnam, and most importantly, Dave. He told them about the PTSD (not the he called it that) and why exactly he needed those goddamn pills. He watched and grimaced as his sibling’s faces moved from annoyed to pitiful in a matter of minutes. At least they didn’t interrupt him.

“So that’s the story,” Klaus said, clapping his hands (HELLO. GOODBYE) and putting on a very fake smile. Five frowned and stared at the ground, looking deep in thought. Luther shifted uncomfortably in his seat. Vanya wiped a few tears away from her eyes, ever the sensitive soul. Ben was nowhere to be seen. Diego just looked at Klaus with sad eyes.

“I, uh, I’m sorry… for your loss?” Luther said, avoiding eye contact with anyone but the ceiling. Diego huffed in annoyance.

“That all you can come up with, big guy?” he said. Luther glared at him whilst Klaus sank into his seat, fully knowing what was going to come next.

“At least I said  _ something _ !” Luther said, raising his voice slightly. Five sent Klaus a frantic look that roughly translated into ‘we’ll talk later’ before teleporting away, taking Vanya with him. Neither Diego nor Luther noticed this, continuing their shouting match as Klaus watched with uninterested eyes. He was exhausted.

“Well, maybe this will shut you up!” Luther screamed, louder than before, just as Klaus was starting to get used to the noise. It made him jump a little, but it wasn’t like his brothers noticed. Luther grabbed an expensive looking vase and threw it straight at Diego. It wasn’t a particularly smart move since Diego had lightning-fast reflexes, and the vase crashed against the wall behind him. 

The shattering sound stabbed through the air like a cacophony of gunshots, and that was all it took to set Klaus off again. He was back in the jungle, on the front line, watching the love of his life bleed out in front of him. Or, was he curled up on the couch at the academy? He didn’t know anymore. He was just so  _ tired _ . Someone was calling his name, or was it his number? Or… just ‘soldier’? Spooks? Fuck! 

“Klaus? Klaus, listen to me- you’re okay. It’s 2019.” Okay, yeah, that was Ben. When did he even get here? Klaus opened his eyes slightly, seeing nothing, and gave a weak smile.

Then he blacked out.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------

 

It had been a week since that day and things were as shit as ever, really. For some ungodly reason, Klaus’ flashbacks had been more intense after he told his siblings about them. And the ghosts wouldn’t shut up. They were so loud and they wouldn't shut up.

He hadn’t taken the pills in a few days and he wasn’t going through withdrawal  _ exactly _ , but he wasn’t having the best of times either. There was one particular ghost that just followed him around silently, guts trailing on the floor behind them. It was worse than the screams, maybe, because he didn’t know what this one’s intent was, but- no, the screams were probably worse.

In a moment of complete recklessness, just a few days ago, Klaus had gathered up all of the pills he could find- power suppressants and secret stashes alike- and dumped them all into the sink. Of course, he immediately regretted it, but the day before had been absolute hell.

Without thinking, Klaus took twice his usual dosage on that fateful day. It was subconscious, he was so used to just taking almost too many pills- or in some cases, more than too many. He realised something was wrong when the ghosts had completely disappeared, including Ben. He panicked and cried and screamed, utterly alone for the first time in years. It was terrifying. It was freeing. It felt  _ good _ .

Klaus knew he had to get rid of the pills when he woke up the next day wanting to take too many again. To just be  _ ordinary _ , for once.

And now he regretted his decision. Ironic. But at least Ben was back. As well as every other ghost from here to Soho. Ben was the only person in the goddamn family that seemed to care. Even after all the emotions and shit. 

_ You should go out into the garden, get some air,  _ Ben said as Klaus stared up at the ceiling of his bedroom. They had been trying to make Ben corporeal again but after many failures, Klaus decided to give up and paint his nails. Midnight Black. 

“No.” Klaus replied, blowing on his nails and giving Ben a lazy stare, “I’d rather not.” Ben rolled his eyes.

_ Yeah, we’re going. Now.  _ He tried to grab Klaus’ hands but he just fazed straight through them, making Klaus shiver. HELLO. GOODBYE.

“Christ on a cracker! You’re a fuckin’ chilly one… You dried my nail polish,” he said, staring at his hands in wonder. Ben gave him a look.

“Okay, okay, okay! Have it your way, we’ll go to the garden in the middle of the night in the freezing cold-”

_ It’s only evening. And it’s summer.  _ Ben folded his arms and Klaus shuddered. He looked like an angry parent. When did Ben become his guardian? Shooting his brother a glare for good measure, Klaus clambered up off of the floor and brushed the dust off his skirt. 

_ Who knows, there might be something good in the outside world,  _ Ben said with a smile. Klaus just grimaced.

“I don’t like how you said that…”

 

\----------------------------------------------------------

 

Diego glared at his siblings as they sat in various chairs in the room. He had called a family meeting to discuss… recent events of the Klaus variety. It concerned him pretty greatly when Klaus didn’t even show up, but after the way their last meeting went down, he wasn’t exactly surprised. 

“So, uh, what the hell do we do now?” he asked. Vanya looked at him with tired eyes and Luther just scoffed. Okay, reaching his siblings was going to be harder than he thought. 

“Let me talk to him,” Five said, voice unusually small. Diego raised an eyebrow.

“It’s just, when I was working with the commission… They sent me on a few missions in ‘Nam and- I know it wasn't the same, I was only ever there for a few days at most, I lived in comfortable conditions, I didn't get anywhere  _ near _ the front line, but I feel like I'm the one who'll understand the best- right?” he explained. Sighing, he ran a hand through his hair. God, he hated thinking about the commission. Luther nodded at him silently, before getting up and patting him on the shoulder. The force of it made Five shudder. Luther was strong, and being in a 13 year old body didn't help. Fuck his life, honestly. Why did he offer to help Klaus, again?

“Good luck with that,” Luther called out as he left. And- yeah, he would need luck. He'd need a hell of a lot of luck. Five laughed.

He’s always been pretty lucky.

 

\----------------------------------------------------------

 

Ben was acting shifty and Klaus knew it. His ghost-brother was grinning like an idiot whenever he thought Klaus wasn’t looking, and he kept on saying cryptic (hehe, crypt) shit like ‘ _ you're gonna love the flowers this time of year’  _ or  _ ‘we should go to the courtyard, you know, for old time’s sake’  _ (they never used to go to the courtyard). But Klaus was really too tired to question it.

When they reached the courtyard, there was a little table in the corner with a record player sitting perfectly on top of it. Ben was practically buzzing with excitement, for whatever reason. 

_ Go over to it!  _ he prompted. Sighing, Klaus obeyed, feeling the granite under his bare feet as he crossed the courtyard. The record player, unsurprisingly, had a record set up on it already. Klaus turned to Ben.

“You want me to play it?” he asked, heart caught in his throat. Okay, seeing Ben happy may or may not be worth all this effort, depending on how good the song is. The vinyl wasn't labelled, which was mildly terrifying, but whatever. Ben was nodding furiously, so Klaus moved the needle to the edge of the vinyl. After a few seconds, the music began to play:

_ Dirty old river, must you keep rolling, rolling into the night _ _   
_ _ People so busy, make me feel dizzy, taxi light shines so bright _

Klaus froze, “Ben, I-”

_ Turn around,  _ he said. Klaus was shaking, but he obliged. Then, he almost fainted at what- who- he saw. Standing there, as beautiful as the day they met, was-

“Dave,” Klaus choked out, covering his mouth. Tears were clouding his vision, and that wouldn't do. He rubbed his eyes as Dave approached, and Klaus had to lean on the table to stay upright. Fuck, this wasn't a dream, was it? He hadn't relapsed had he? God, it was real, wasn't it? He looked down at his hands. HELLO. GOODBYE.

_ Every day I look at the world from my window _ _   
_ _ Chilly chilly is the evening time, Waterloo sunset's fine _

Dave held out a hand that Klaus knew he couldn't hold, and he smiled, and if Klaus could be any more in love, he would surely die. 

“Care to dance?” Dave said, and Klaus realised that he  _ could _ be more in love without dying. Unless he was already dead. But that wasn't important. He hovered his hand above Dave’s, unable to touch, but it didn't matter- the gesture was the same. They moved to the centre of the courtyard, letting the music play around them as they stared into each other's eyes and began to move to the sound. 

_ As long as I gaze on Waterloo Sunset, I am in paradise _ __   
_ Every day I look at the world from my window _ _   
_ __ Chilly chilly is the evening time, Waterloo sunset's fine

And then- holy shit- Klaus leaned against Dave as they swayed. He  _ leaned against  _ him, like, he was physically  _ there _ . And Klaus didn't even need to open his eyes to know that his hands were glowing blue, and so was Dave, and he just held him tighter as tears fell from his smiling face. 

_ And they don't, need no friends _ _   
_ _ As long as they gaze on Waterloo Sunset, they are in paradise _

 

\----------------------------------------------------------

 

HELLO. GOODBYE. He stared at his hands. Dave was in the kitchen, talking to Five. What a novel concept. He smiled, maybe he could get better. HELLO. GOODBYE.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave Kudos, feedback, and requests! Lots of love :)


	6. Fashion Forward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @Gardian :  
> OH! May I suggest three? Honestly fine if you use that wonderful brain of yours to make it into one.  
> Ok so  
> 1- Klaus finds out Five is jealous of his outfits so he takes his ‘little” brother shopping and gets him his own cute dress

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The other prompts will come later!! I was going to put all three in one but then this was 2000 words so I decided to split it in two :D 
> 
> NOTE: for some reason, ao3 keeps messing up my spacing and punctuation, so if you see anything weird, that's why! Hope y'all enjoy this one. Also sorry that the updates come so slowly! I only work on one at a time and each one takes up to a week, so don't worry if your request hasn't been done yet- they are all on a list that I am slowly working through so I won't forget yours!
> 
> Next Fic -> Klaus and the mausoleum

 

 

For @Gardian

Maybe it was three weeks after saving the world, maybe it was four. Time is a funny concept, so who’s to say? Five certainly didn’t know, much like he didn’t know why having a real name made him uncomfortable. Or- well, those were the only two things he didn’t know, thank you very much. 

It was on this day, three or four weeks after saving the world, that Five decided he was tired of sitting around doing nothing. It was awkward, doing nothing. He’d spent a large majority of his life doing something: training his powers, surviving through the post-apocalypse, building trust with the commission, saving the world. He never had time to just stop and, I don’t know, look at clouds- or something.  If he did his mind would tell him to stop wasting time, to start working. It was shit.

So that’s how Five had ended up outside Klaus’ room. Of course, it was the last place he wanted to be. He’d much rather spend his time with Diego (pleasantly stoic and unquestioning) or Vanya (powerful and sympathetic) or Allison or Luther or… Ben wasn’t really available, but if he was, he’d be a much better option. Anyone would be a better option!

Still, Five found himself drawn to Klaus on this particular day. There was just so much mystery around the man, ever since he time-travelled to who-knows-where, and his powers- those powers of his! Everything about Klaus screamed intrigue and, additionally, he was the least likely sibling to turn him down (perhaps because he was equally as lonely and desperate for human interaction as Five himself, or perhaps he needed a distraction to help him with withdrawal problems- Five didn’t care which).

And, of course, there was Klaus’  _ unique _ sense of fashion, as another factor towards his intriguing self. When Five had left, they were all still wearing uniforms most of the time. And then, in the post-apocalypse, he just wore what he could find out of necessity. In the commission, he wore nothing but suits, and now he was back to uniforms! It was like he was in clothing purgatory. Nothing new, nothing interesting, nothing  _ Five _ .

But Klaus, wow. He was always,  _ always _ dressed to kill. His skirts and dresses were battle armour and his crop-tops and leather pants were murder weapons. The bangles on his wrists were broken shackles, the silver dog-tags a noose around his neck. The colour palette was tragic and punchy, much like Klaus himself, and everything was either too big or too small. Five hated to admit it, but he admired his brother- he was probably the bravest idiot of them all.

When Five pushed the bedroom door open, he wasn’t really sure what the expect. Maybe a colourful, pop-y room or something inexplicably dark and messy. He was greeted by neither. 

The first thing to strike him were the walls. They were grey-white, from what he could tell, but they were also distinctly similar to his own. Black writing covered every inch of the walls, handwriting barely legible (but what did he expect?) tiny, frantic, crazed, disorganised. It made the room look smaller, not that it was big to begin with. In fact, it could possibly be the smallest bedroom in the Academy. 

Five made a mental note to ask Klaus what the writing was about later. Again, intrigue.

The furniture in the room was minimalistic at best. It didn’t feel very  _ Klaus _ , but it probably would eventually. That was probably Reginald’s fault, his idea of a child’s bedroom. The room was (just barely) lit from one singular orange lightbulb right in the centre of the ceiling, which was strange because Five was sure Klaus was afraid of the dark, and surely the blackout curtains didn’t help. There was a bed, too, also impossibly  _ not-Klaus _ , and that’s where the person in question was currently situated.

Klaus hadn’t noticed Five’s appearance, green eyes intent on staring at the dog-tags in his hand. He was laying the wrong way round on his bed, which wasn’t all that surprising, and his legs were leaning up against the wall so that he was lying in a sort of backwards ‘L’ shape. Odd, but at least it was Klaus. He was wearing some kind of black, lace crop-top that did nothing to hide how skinny he was ( _ ‘because I haven’t been able to afford a meal in thirteen years, darling. It’s the secret diet they don’t want you to know about!’ _ ) and a low-waisted, black and pink skirt that reached just above his knees. No shoes or socks, of course, just black nail polish that looked like it had seen better days.

Five brushed off the envious feelings that rose in his stomach and cleared his throat. Klaus startled and turned to face him, dropping the tags in the process.

“Hey, um, Klaus,” Five said. Klaus smirked at his awkwardness. 

“I’m sorry, did you just get stuck trying to remember my  _ name _ ? Or was the ‘um’ just for effect?” he asked, pushing himself upright and sitting on his bed. His eyes sparkled mischievously, as they always did, but the grin on his face looked almost forced. Five just groaned. If his brother wanted to be a smart-ass, he wasn’t going to act interested in sticking around. There was only room for one smart-ass in this family!

“I’ll just leave then,” he muttered, turning slightly. There was a beat silence.

“No no no! Wait!” Klaus called out. Five smiled to himself, he knew that would work. Of course, he didn't actually plan of leaving. Not when he had a reason to stay. He turned back to Klaus, who relaxed his previously tensed shoulders and offered a weak half-smile.

“What did you want?” he asked, as pleasantly as possible. His eyes never met Five’s, flitting around the room instead. This wasn't uncommon. 

“Well, you know that you have all those skirts and dresses that you wear?” Five replied, glad that they were finally getting to the point. Klaus raised an eyebrow, face gently illuminated by soft yellow light. It made his eyeliner (smudged) look decent, and his skin looked less sickly.

“Yes?”

“And you buy them at the store with money?” Five continued. Okay, so perhaps he was stalling. He wasn't embarrassed, though. No way.

“That’s debatable but for the sake of this hypothetical scenario… yeah?” Klaus spoke, laughing a little at his own chaotic tendencies. Five sighed.

“And I don’t have any money because I’m in a thirteen-year-old body that can’t get a job?”

“Mhmm?”

“And the only clothes I have are my academy uniforms?”

“Ja?”

Five frowned. He hadn't wanted to spell it out for Klaus, or say it at all. Worse, Klaus definitely knew what Five was trying to say, and just wanted to torture him. The bastard. Taking a deep breath through his nose, Five prepared to be laughed at by his asshole of a brother.

“Klaus… will you take me shopping?” he said, voice hushed. He definitely didn't want any of his other siblings hearing this conversation. Klaus, however, had other ideas. He cupped a hand around his ear with a smirk.

“Sorry, you mumbled? I didn’t quite underst-”

“Will you take me shopping, asshole?” Five said, louder and through gritted teeth. Klaus clapped his hands, ecstatic, and jumped off of his bed with a thud.

“This is quite possibly the best day of my life!” he squealed, rummaging through a pile of clothes and throwing on a pair of black, heeled boots. Practically pushing Five out of the room, Klaus grabbed a satchel of some description from behind the door (hopefully containing some cash) and started to race down the Academy stairs. Five sighed as he struggled to keep up.

“Is- is that a yes?”

 

\-----------------------------------------------------------------

 

In the end, they went to a thrift store. This didn’t surprise Five, Klaus definitely didn’t have enough money to get the same fancy stuff that people like Allison wore, and Klaus had obviously made this place his go-to for outfits (or ‘looks’ as Klaus lovingly called them). The cashier did nothing to hide his relieved smile as they entered, and immediately struck up a conversation (‘Klaus! How have you been? Is this  _ your _ kid? Are you finally done with rehab? You smell clean, do you have a house? This is great!’). 

As the cashier talked and talked, Five’s mind boggled at the sheer range of items on display. Shirts, dresses, jeans, skirts, scarves, hats, shoes, socks, in every colour too… It was brilliant! Five barely knew where to start. Klaus smiled down at him, watching his overwhelmed expression whilst leaning on the cashier’s table. 

“So what kinda thing are we looking for exactly? Maybe something vintage to match your age-old wisdom? A trench coat because you’re an edgy little shit? Something that really screams ‘I’m a fifty-eight-year-old man’?” he asked, pushing himself off from the table and walking over to some kind of denim jacket. He inspected the jacket, feeling the fabric, before letting it go and moving on to a blazer that reminded Five way too much of the Academy uniform he was wearing.

“Uh…” Five began. If he was talking honestly, he didn’t actually know  _ what _ he wanted to wear. All he knew was one simple thing: no suits or uniforms. That was it. Those were his guidelines. He looked at Klaus, who was staring at him expectantly.

“Come on! You must have some kind of idea!” he exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. And- Five may have lied when he said he had no idea what he wanted. Perhaps he had an idea, but- god- he’d never hear the end of it, would he? 

“Well…” he said, pretending to look critically at the array of clothes surrounding him. Klaus’ eyes scanned the room, and Five followed his gaze. Maybe if he let Klaus choose his clothes, he wouldn’t have to worry about formal bullshit. So he followed his brother around aimlessly, listening to him ramble about how his week had been- or something.

“Ooh! What about a tiny suit? That would be fucking adora-”

“I kinda like  _ your _ sense of style,” Five blurted out. The word ‘suit’ made panic rise up his throat like bile, and he knew that they weren’t getting anywhere by looking around with no direction, so he decided to let the dam break- so to speak- and let his brother know what he was really looking for. 

Klaus stopped in his tracks and turned around, confusion written all over his features. “I- what?” Five sighed.

“Your skirts and dresses and big stupid coats. They’re nice,” he mumbled, refusing to look anywhere but the floor. There was silence. He prepared himself for the worst: Klaus would probably laugh at him,  _ that style would never suit you, Five!  _ And then they’d leave and Klaus would tell everyone and they’d all laugh too. Five cursed himself for even saying anything.

A hand met his shoulder gently, pulling him out of his thoughts and startling him a little. When he finally looked up at Klaus, he could only describe the look on his face as  _ pride _ . 

“Well of course we can look for that kind of stuff!” he said with a kind smile. Five felt more than a little stupid for being so worried… Then, eyes sparkling, Klaus added: “This is going to be  _ amazing _ .”

It  _ was _ amazing. The dynamic duo spent the majority of the remaining day trying on pretty much every item of clothing they could find, combining outfits to create new, improved looks, running around wearing at least one hat at all times, going absolutely wild with jewellery. It was the most fun Five had experienced in over forty years, and it felt so energising. Klaus was so supportive, too, and it made Five forget that he was ever nervous to ask him for fashion advice.

Eventually, they chose some comfortable jeans, two simple skirts, a polaroid shirt, a coat that was way too big, and several chunky necklaces. Klaus called it ‘baby’s first cross-dressing kit’ which Five found abhorrent but amusing. The cashier said it was fine when Klaus was a few dollars short (‘hey don’t worry, we’ve all been there’) even though he insisted that he would come back and pay it off later. Five wasn’t entirely sure if that was a promise or a proposition, but he didn’t really care. 

Later, they would hold a fashion show with Allison for an audience of stuffed animals, and Five would claim that it was all Klaus’ idea. He would be lying, and it would be obvious because he wouldn’t be able to hide how much fun he was having, and he would think to himself that maybe it was okay to be unproductive for once, and Klaus would say that he’d check for old clothes in his closet at some point, and it would be fine. 

For now, though, they had to figure out how to carry all of the clothes back to the Academy.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this :) don't forget to leave kudos, requests, and feedback! Have a good day <3


	7. A Week, Or Several

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @Lykawithions :  
> Hey! I loved this chapter! I like your style of writing as well. I have a request for you! If you feel comfy doing it and all that jazz. Also if you wanna change anything to it you don't even have to ask, if all the chapters are like this one (writing wise) then I'll enjoy it either way (it's also more important for you to like the work you made than me lol). Okay enough chit chat from me, here's the prompt!
> 
> I love the angsty Klaus stuff (who doesn't?) So would you be willing to have a Klaus centred chapter where they all see him come home from the mausoleum as kids and Klaus is just really not in the world of the living and is not aware. Idk that's all I have, go wild!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I set this after the events of season 1, so they are back in their kid bodies but have their adult minds and (more importantly) memories!
> 
> This took a while because I had exams but it's done now so I hope you enjoy!! I had a lot of fun writing this one, especially the dialogue!
> 
> Next one-shot on the list -> Klaus and modern songs in Vietnam, 1968

For @Lykawithions

It wasn’t like he didn’t think it would happen. He knew it would, eventually. The thought scratched at the empty husk of his hollow brain for hours a day like sandpaper and there wasn’t a calm second where he wasn’t reminded of its looming presence. Only he… hadn’t expected it happening so soon. Not again.

Ever since Five had brought them back to the past, it had been hell. Letting himself become moulded to Reginald’s strict routine, and stricter training, after so many years of deviance- it was the third hardest thing he’d ever had to do (right after losing Dave and getting sober). Klaus knew they had to focus on Vanya, on getting her powers stable, but he couldn’t help but feel like he deserved at least a little attention. But the only person who would know anything about what Klaus was going through was Ben, and even he ignored him. Then again, having to supervise Klaus for over 13 years probably made the ex-ghost tired of dealing with him.

And now he was being sent to the mausoleum. 

Reginald (Klaus refused to call him ‘dad’) came into his room at the end of the evening, as he was about to pretend to fall asleep. He said Klaus needed to do more of his ‘individual training’ and, well, he did not like it one bit. Brain numb and bones aching, Klaus forced himself to get out of bed and change into his Academy uniform. His movements were robotic and he stared straight ahead the whole time, not wanting to look at his trembling hands. 

To put it lightly, the mausoleum would be hell. And, on top of everything, Klaus was craving a hit to numb himself further. He knew this would push him further, he knew it would fuck him up, he knew his siblings wouldn’t care- wouldn’t notice. Still, he didn’t fight Reginald as the man took him away. He couldn’t. 

It was so much worse than hell.

Everything started small, as most things do. The door slammed shut and Klaus winced at the familiar noise but other than that, things were fine. There were four bottles of water on the ground, which was terrifying. When Klaus spent three days in the godforsaken building before, he was only given two bottles. By that logic, he’d be spending six days here. And  _ that- _ he couldn’t do that. He let a few self-pitying tears fall like dewdrops from his eyes and prayed to God- wherever she was- for help.

The ghosts started to manifest more dramatically maybe an hour into Klaus’ individual training (if you called it that). They screamed and wailed and begged, but Klaus tried his best to ignore them. He also tried his best to stop the tears, but he couldn’t. Closing his eyes was off the menu, it appeared, since every time he tried to do so, more ghosts would cloud his vision. They were loud, and the mausoleum was cold, and Klaus wasn’t sure if he’d live to see his family again. But, would they even miss him? Would Reginald tell them about his demise? Or would he cover it up and frame it as a classic case of running away from home? Would his siblings believe him? Luther and Allison probably would-

A ghost shrieked straight into his ear, pulling from his thoughts. It would be a long six days.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------

 

It was seven days, but it wasn’t like Klaus could tell. 

 

\--------------------------------------------------------

 

He vaguely remembered seeing the door of the mausoleum open, and the memory of walking back to the Academy rattled in his brain. He knew he showered and changed into fresh clothes. He knew mom bandaged up his scratches. He didn't understand how he reached the dining table, but he barely even noticed he was there. Because he couldn't  _ see  _ anything. Barely, anyway. It was all ghosts and screams and gore. 

He sensed the others filing into the room for breakfast, but he didn’t  _ hear _ them. Were they wondering what was wrong with him? Or did they not care? Ben said something, possibly to him. Whatever it was, he didn’t answer. Reginald said something, too. Probably telling Ben not to talk at the table. 

Klaus ate breakfast and was sick afterwards- obviously he did, he hadn’t eaten in a week. Also, he was still going through withdrawal, so he was nauseous anyway. That’s what everyone else chalked it up to when Klaus retreated to his room. Vaguely, he thought about what the others were doing to help Vanya, but his thoughts were interrupted by an icy hand brushing his shoulder. Oh, and the ghosts were becoming more and more corporeal (terrifying, his worst fear) but Klaus was sure he’d be able to keep the spirits to himself. If they were hurting him, at least they weren’t hurting his family.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------

 

It took two weeks for someone to notice, which was better than Klaus expected. Diego, ever the observant type, came to his room after lunch upon realising his brother wasn’t there.

“Klaus?” he called, pushing the door open. A wispy beam of light flooded the dark room, highlighting the spot where Klaus was sat cross-legged on the floor, facing the open door with unfocused eyes. He said nothing, mostly because he didn’t hear his brother over the screams of a pale and tortured soul hovering next to his ear. 

“Hey… you’ve gotta talk to me, buddy,” Diego said, voice laced with concern as he approached his catatonic sibling. His eyes were weirdly glossy, but Klaus didn’t look like he’d been crying. His expression was blank. Diego shifted uncomfortably.

“Um, are you okay?” What he meant was  _ are you high?  _ But he didn’t think that was entirely appropriate. Plus he’d seen Klaus high a hell of a lot of times, this was nothing like that. He waved a hand in front of Klaus’ face, but his eyes stared straight through him like he was a ghost, which would be ironic because- wait.

“Holy shit.”

 

\--------------------------------------------------------

 

Reginald had gone out for the day (thank god) so it was the siblings designated ‘help Vanya’ time. They were gathered in the living room with the sister in question, attempting to get her to work on her powers. You know, to prevent the apocalypse. Vanya herself wasn't too keen on this arrangement. She tried to convince her siblings she should stay on her pills and let it be, but according to Five, that wouldn't work. So, training was the only option.

So far, it was a limited but hopeful success, and today was no different. At least, until they were interrupted by a startled looking Diego bursting into the scene.

Putting it in simple terms, he explained something was wrong with Klaus, and they needed to go to him. Ben was already gone as soon as Klaus’ name was said, but the others seemed reluctant to follow. Allison and Five insisted they stay with Vanya, keep her away from any conflict because she was sensitive. At least, that was their excuse. 

Diego had a feeling they didn't want to deal with their brother.

Luther argued for too long. He tried to explain away Klaus’ strange behaviour with simple solutions (He’s high. He's drunk. He's asking for attention. He's being dramatic.) Diego threatened him with a knife to the face if assist him and Ben in figuring this all out. 

Giving one last look towards Allison, Five and Vanya (annoyed, bored, worried) Diego made his way back up the stairs, Luther close behind, trying (failing) not to show how absolutely terrified he was.

 

\--------------------------------------------------------

 

As soon as Ben reached Klaus’ room, he saw something was horribly wrong. Staring straight ahead, at the door, but not at Ben, Klaus was still and deathly silent. In fact, he didn't seem to see Ben enter the room. Eyes like glass, he gazed at nothing with the same intensity as a junkie at a bottle of pills. 

Ben came to the uncomfortable realisation he had only ever seen Klaus like this once in the past- when he came back from Vietnam. Over thirteen years of following him around, watching him throw his life away in favour of overdoses in back alleys and throwing up in strangers toilets, this was the most broken he had seen his brother. And he looked so  _ young _ , fourteen again, but still carried the scars of life in his face. Ben supposed it was how they all looked, now, thanks to Five. 

This was all wrong.

Frantically, Ben ran over to Klaus, grabbing his shoulders and trying to get his eyes to focus. “Klaus! What the hell is going on with you?” His shout was desperate. How long had he left his brother- his  _ best friend _ \- like this? Why didn’t he notice something was wrong? An acidic taste stagnated on his tongue as more words rose through his throat.

“Answer me you bastard!” He shook Klaus’ shoulders. “Please.” It was something quiet and mournful. Fitting, perhaps. A small sob echoed around the room as Ben pulled Klaus into an embrace, holding him tightly as if it would help. The Horrors inside him called out for the first time in weeks, a cacophony of one word:  _ PROTECT _ . And another:  _ SAVE _ .

It may be plausible Klaus had sensed the call, too, but it could never be confirmed nor denied. Klaus did, however, register  _ something _ holding him, and came to a logical conclusion in his crowded mind.

“Ben?” a tiny voice, almost inaudible and wispy because of lack of use, sounded. Allowing tears of relief to tumble down his face, Ben held Klaus closer to him.

“Yeah, it’s me, it’s me.”

Klaus moved his head so it was resting like a feather on Ben’s shoulder. “I can’t hear you,” he stated. Ben shook his head.

“Klaus… What-”

“They’re too loud.” It was all Klaus needed to say, in his tortured excuse for a voice. Ben shuddered at the concept. When he himself was a ghost he was gifted with the ability to see what Klaus had to deal with (it wasn’t pleasant). He should’ve known this would happen, with Klaus being sober for the first time in who knows how long the ghosts were probably overwhelming. And, unfortunately, there was the mausoleum-

“Oh my god,” Ben said, the true weight of the situation dawning upon him. Klaus shrugged weakly, guessing his brother had said something.

“Can’t really see you, either,” he mumbled.

“Jesus, Klaus-” Ben moved to stand up, but Klaus grabbed his arm. He couldn’t lose his anchor, not now. 

“Don’t let go. Please?” He looked up at Ben, trying his best to make out his shape through the blue hands and faces surrounding him. Ben recognised the blind look in his eyes and gave him a sympathetic smile he couldn’t see. 

“Okay.”

 

\--------------------------------------------------------

 

When Diego and Luther showed up, they were understandably confused. They wanted to know everything, right now. So, Ben told them. The ghosts, the mausoleum, everything. Klaus regained enough of his senses to mention his week-long stay in the god-awful building, Luther had a whole epiphany about how terrible Reginald is/was, Diego had to step outside to punch a wall, Ben promised never to leave Klaus alone again, feelings were discussed in the way you would expect (poorly, many angered sighs). Overall, it could have been worse.

Eventually, Diego and Luther realised they had to inform the others about everything that had happened, and reluctantly left the room. Ben stayed, so it was once again Klaus and himself, and existential dread hanging over the both of them like a wet towel.

“Klaus… I’m so sorry I wasn’t there for you,” he said in a quiet and sincere tone. To be contrary, Klaus shoved him.

“Ben-”

Ben cut him off with a quick shake of his head. “It’s not okay. I didn’t know you were gone. I didn’t see the signs. I thought you weren’t talking to me because you were mad at me.” He looked away, ashamed. Klaus sent him a tiny but reassuring smile and shook his head.

“It’s fine,” he said. Ben frowned.

“It’s not! You only think that because it’s how it’s always been!”

“No, it really is fine,” Klaus repeated, but Ben just gave him a  _ look _ .

“I really am sorry, y’know,” he said, exhausted. He looked so sad, and that just wouldn’t do. Klaus had to do  _ something _ . So, with legs shaking like a newborn foal’s, he stood up and grabbed Ben, embracing him in a warm hug much like the one he gave earlier. A ghost screamed at him from somewhere in the distance, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the two of them, finally talking things out, finally back to best friends, finally self-assured. 

Klaus let go of Ben and smiled.

“I know.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave kudos, requests and feedback! Lots of love and have a great day <3


	8. All's Fair In Love And War

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @Moth_Man :  
> Please Dave and Klaus fluff please!! I don’t really mind what the premise of the fluff is, but no angst please. Something nice. Thanks and i hope you have a good day!! <3
> 
> @PhantomZone22 :   
> Hi! I love all the requests you've done so far! Could you do one about Klaus back in Nam where he will sing any random song thats stuck in his head and more likly then not its a song from the future and everyone just thinks hes really good at making up lyrics or something even though he tells them they are songs from the future? I feel like klaus isn't very picky with his songs and just kind if likes everything so go crazy and pick whatever you want!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tried out a different style for this one so ???  
> I'm not as great at fluff but I tried my best!! I'm pretty sure a couple of angst elements got into this whoops :0  
> Also sorry this is quite short and took a long time :/  
> Hope you don't mind that I combined these two prompts :)  
> Enjoy!
> 
> Next Oneshot -> The Umbrella Academy and The Media

For @Moth_Man and @PhantomZone22

If Klaus was being honest, the more time he spent in 1968, the less he wanted to leave. Occasionally he thought about his siblings, sure, and some things from 2019 he missed (e.g. not being shot at as often, although honestly, that seemed like something that happened in every timeline) but here-  _ here _ he had so much more. Dave, his boyfriend because of good timing, defying any period-appropriate homophobia. His friends, fellow soldiers, more like brothers than his actual brothers. A sense of belonging, purpose (he tried not to think about how fucked up the implications of that were).

He did, however, miss the music. The Spotify playlist he spent so many hours perfecting existed no longer. Not that the music of the past sounded worse, mind you, Klaus enjoyed it as much as the next hippie. Just… he’d often forget which songs were already released and which ones didn’t exist yet. 

As far as anyone knows, this happened three times.

 

**1 - Doctor Worm, They Might Be Giants**

 

In Klaus’ defence, he was drunk- and everyone else shared this state. This, their last day of freedom before being sent back to the front line- they had to celebrate somehow. There were copious amounts of alcohol, illegal substances (Klaus stayed far away) and women (even further away) and the day passed, wild and free. Now, it began to simmer into something of a bitter, exhausted evening. 

They huddled in a quiet (medium loud) corner of a club, sipping drinks and chatting idly. Who were ‘they’? Sat next to each other, Klaus and Dave, centimetres apart, then a few friends opposite them- Charlie and Thomas. Even though they could barely decipher each other through the smoke, light, and haze of the club, the conversation didn’t register as awkward, drifting from topic to topic, floating around like the thick mist in a mountain range.

“And then she said ‘not in these trousers’ in Vietnamese!” Thomas said, slapping his knee as he let out a booming laugh. Rolling his eyes, Klaus picked up a glass and silently drank whatever liquid sat in it, feeling the sharpness of the drink as it buzzed on his tongue. Drinking meant he didn’t have to react to the stupid things the surrounding people said. For someone so attractive, Tom ruined it by being one of the most brainless people he’d met. And Klaus met a  _ lot _ of stupid people.

“How the hell did ya know what she was saying? You don’t speak Vietnamese!” Dave, the godsend, said with a mocking smirk. Charlie laughed and slapped Tom on the shoulder, making the man’s whole body shudder from the strength of it. Klaus caught Dave's eye and gave him a sincere smile, only for him. And Dave may not have smiled back, but Klaus could decode the message in his eyes, through the layers of foggy air and heteronormativity.

Tom frowned. “You’re no fun, Katz.” He plucked a shot from the table and threw it down his throat faster than a gunshot, hiding his red face from the others. Dave just laughed, leaning back on the couch he was sitting on. Klaus flinched away almost too obviously when their hands nearly touched, but everyone pretended not to notice.

The conversation degraded into something else, likely something more problematic, and Klaus started to sail away into his own world, the words and music around him blurring into a low, murmuring sound reminiscent of boiling water. At the back of his mind, a song started to play faintly- from his playlist, he supposed, though he couldn’t pinpoint the title or artist. He hummed what he remembered of the tune, absent-minded. It wasn’t much but it sort of… came to him as he went. 

It was Dave who heard Klaus’ humming first since he was the closest to him. He didn’t recognise the tune, but smiled, swaying to whatever it was. 

“What’cha singing?” Charlie asked, picking up on the sound. Klaus shrugged, closing his eyes and focussing on his humming. He still wasn’t sure what the song was, but it didn’t really matter.

“Has it got lyrics?” Dave asked. The words were soft and kind, and curious, which made Klaus want to just give up and lean on his boyfriend. But he stopped himself- not in front of the others. Instead, he gave some thought to Dave’s question and nodded slowly.

“They’re, uh, dumb,” he said, staring at his hands. The air around them was thick, chokingly so, yet it wasn’t an issue. The issue was that Klaus was probably about to mess up the timeline or something by introducing his war buddies to a song that wouldn’t come out for years. But he was drunk, and so were they, so it didn’t matter. Did it?

“Who cares? Go for it,” Tom said, and that was all the confidence Klaus needed. He grinned at his friends and began to sing. It was off-key and bad, but they appreciated it anyway. And, at least for a minute, it all seemed rather mundane. This was fine.

At this point, they’d take all the mundane they could get.

_ I like to play the drums. _

_ I think I'm getting good, _

_ But I can handle criticism. _

_ I'll show you what I know, _

_ And you can tell me if you think I'm getting better on the drums. _

_ I'll leave the front unlocked 'cause I can't _

_ Hear the doorbell _

 

**2 - Don’t Stop Me Now, Queen**

 

So, this time Klaus couldn’t blame alcohol (as much as he’d like to). But, then again, who doesn’t like a little bit of Queen, huh? 

The four of them found themselves sat under the shelter of a tent, wide awake in their beds. That’s what speed will do to you. It was silent, but not really because the jungle was never silent. Night-dwelling animals sounded their calls outside, buzzing and chirping and croaking in bizarre tones Klaus was sure none of his friends recognised whilst a faint patter and occasional explosion reminded them of the war on their temporary doorstep. Mosquitoes hovered above stagnant pools of water (it might not have been water, actually) and the stale scent of burnt rubber threatened to choke them, palpable.  

It was too hot in the tent, and nobody liked that. How the hell was it still so hot, even at night? The surrounding air was viscous like honey, causing their clothes to stick to their skin in the most uncomfortable places. Dave had removed his shirt, at risk of being swarmed by diseased insects, and Klaus actively tried to look away in a convincing manner. 

“Sing for us, Klaus,” said Charlie, picking a nail on his left hand, which was split in two and covered in dirt. Klaus laughed.

“Why?” he asked, scanning the area for any bottles or flasks (deliberately looking away from Dave, which was difficult because he was sitting right next to him, on his ‘bed’). Tom raised an eyebrow at him as if it explained anything, and Klaus mirrored the action as if it was an answer. Charlie coughed politely, breaking the already flimsy amount of tension in the room. 

Dave grinned at the exact moment Klaus met his eyes, the bastard, amused.

“Boredom’ll kill us before the war even gets here, what else are we supposed to do to pass the time, Spooks?” he said. Klaus almost replied with ‘you should do me’ but he caught himself just in time. Wow, way to be subtle. Also, Klaus was very much liking his new nickname. Spooks. It had a nice ring to it. 

He shrugged, trying to think of a song. Unfortunately, most of his favourites were gay anthems- possibly not a great idea, right? Or maybe it didn’t matter. It wasn’t like Tom or Charlie would give a shit (Tom didn’t have the brain cells and Charlie… well, it might be wishful thinking but Charlie didn’t exactly give off hetero vibes).

He’d get away with Queen, wouldn’t he? The answer was yes because Klaus wanted to sing Queen and nothing would stop him. Smiling at the rest of the group, he tapped a beat with his foot.  _ Don’t Stop Me Now _ was a fitting choice, he supposed.

About halfway through his butchered rendition of Freddie Mercury’s song, Klaus realised it wouldn’t come out for another ten years yet, but it wasn’t like anyone was keeping count. 

_ Tonight _

_ I'm gonna have myself a real good time _

_ I feel alive _

_ And the world—I'll turn it inside out, yeah _

_ I'm floating around _

_ In ecstasy, so _

_ Don't stop me now, don't stop me _

_ 'Cause I'm having a good time, having a good time _

 

**3 - It Must Be Love, Madness**

 

_ Thank god for hotel rooms _ is one of the most obscure things Klaus has ever said, and he’s said a large number of obscure things. A few prime examples of obscure things he has said include gems such as: ‘what would happen if you attached a cat to a dog?’ ‘I can’t even spell my own name, how do you expect me to know how trees grow?’ and ‘what is love (baby don’t hurt me, don’t hurt me, no more’. But that’s beside the point. The reason he said  _ thank god for hotel rooms _ might be because he and Dave found and bought a night’s stay in a hotel room, in between, you know, fighting in the war, and they were about to be very,  _ very _ gay. 

Get your mind out of the gutter.

The room was small and damp, blue wallpaper peeling and a singular light bulb hanging from the ceiling. They could only afford one room, at least that was the excuse they used to avoid suspicion. A strange smell lingered in the air, which came as no surprise to either man, and the sink tap was leaky. It didn’t matter. They had each other.

A few hours of cuddling and kissing was one thing, staring listlessly at nothing with the love of your life was a different thing- a more enjoyable thing. Dave was running his hands through Klaus’ hair as they listened to the hum of the air conditioning unit (doing nothing to keep them cool) and rested together on the creaking single bed taking up most of the room. 

“Do you want me to sing?” Klaus offered, because he reckoned it’d make Dave happy. He was a considerate boyfriend like that (it totally wasn’t because he had the perfect song for him or anything). Dave gave him a look that can only be described as wildly-in-love.

“Got something in mind, Spooks?” he asked. He was a saint, really, for not only enduring but actually  _ enjoying _ Klaus’ singing. It wasn’t the best, after all. It was pitchy and jagged and not pleasant in any way, much the opposite to Dave’s singing (a voice crafted by angels Klaus didn’t even believe in). 

Klaus grinned. “Yeah, somethin’ you might like.” He gazed into his boyfriend’s eyes like an emotional teen, and Dave gazed right back because he was finally allowed to do so. And- oh my good god- Klaus was  _ nervous _ . He’d never been nervous before. This was unprecedented. 

Cautiously, he began to hum the opening lines to It Must Be Love- because he was a romantic (as well as a Romantic, capital R) and also a queer wreck. Dave smiled at him, warming his heart (Dave’s smile, capable of bringing a man to tears) and a fresh wave of confidence washed through him. He wanted to sing, for his boyfriend, so he did. 

Between the too-hot jungle, too-hot tent, and too-hot club, this was the location that would always stick in their minds.

_ I never thought I'd miss you _

_ Half as much as I do _

_ And I never thought I'd feel this way _

_ The way I feel _

_ About you _

_ As soon as I wake up _

_ Every night, every day _

_ I know that it's you I need _

_ To take the blues away _ __

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't forget to leave Kudos, feedback and requests!! Lots of love and have a great day <3


	9. News News News

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @Kongohb : I love your writing and I have a request :) so in the show, they have the comic about them right? So I was thinking maybe POVs from the characters and what they think of how the media portrays them?? Idk I’m not much of a writer, but you are, so put your own little twist on it! (You don’t have to read the comic for this it’s the in-show one I’m talking about)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is so short and took me so long honestly but I'm actually happy with how it turned out? There's not really any story but that's ok!! Hope you all enjoy!
> 
> IMPORTANT: I will be writing 40 total one-shots for this book, and it is a first come first served system. There are 16 more slots left, so request away before it's too late! I'm stopping at 40 because otherwise, I'd be doing this forever! But I am going to start a Good Omens one-shot book similar to this one, so keep your eyes peeled for that!! 
> 
> Next One-Shot -> Vanya's Book

For @Kongohb

News reports and media coverage had been part of their lives since the day they were born, and that’s just the way it was. Their births alone were enough to fuel the tabloids for weeks- everything after that was just another event to add to the list. Reginald was insistent on keeping them away from the media (and the rest of the outside world) after he adopted them and kept it that way until they were 13 when they had their first mission.  

As the years went by, The Umbrella Academy kids turned into adults, and now they hold certain opinions.

 

**Luther**

 

He was the leader. That’s what he knew but it didn’t hurt to be reminded every few missions. He was the leader. The strong one. Spaceboy. But that was just the problem, wasn’t it? He wasn’t anything else. The media didn’t want to know his favourite type of aircraft or the details of his alphabetized record collection, they just wanted to know about strategy and punches. It was dull.

Watching his siblings’ interviews made him realise he was only ever going to be seen as Number One, while they would be names and personalities and hobbies. Looking back on it, he was jealous, but he never knew how to express these feelings to Reginald- who insisted on interviews after every mission. 

Then Five was gone, and Ben was gone, then Klaus left, followed by Vanya, Diego, even Allison. But the questions never changed. It was still all ‘How do you train your powers?’ ‘What was the plan B for this mission?’ ‘Do you have a back-up for if it all goes wrong?’. 

When Luther mysteriously disappeared to the moon, he finally received more interesting questions. It was a shame he wasn’t around to answer them.

 

**Diego**

 

Diego always harboured a problem opposite from Luther’s. He was  _ never _ asked about strategy. Or leadership. He was asked so many pointless, frivolous things that didn’t matter at all. Things like his favourite colour or if he has a girlfriend or does he have a lucky knife. Luther got all the good questions, in his opinion. It was probably because he was Number One, the lucky bastard. 

Over the years, the questions became less generic and more personal. His opinions on Five’s disappearance? Why doesn’t he wear the uniform like his other siblings? Is he ok? (NOTE: if you were wondering, his answers to those questions were ‘no comment, no comment’ and ‘yes’). He wasn’t sure how to go about these questions. They were just as annoying as the earlier ones, but these kept him up at night. God, how  _ did _ he feel about Five’s disappearance? It was unnerving how he didn’t know himself well enough to form an answer- it was probably time to run away.

In the brief time between Ben’s death and Diego’s escape into vigilante-ism, the media asked him more questions he found hard to answer. So he made some answers up. He wasn’t proud of what he said, and assured his remaining family he didn’t mean it, but what he said still stands.

How are you coping with the death of your brother?  _ I don’t care. I never did. _

Are you going to leave the Academy?  _ If I did would you leave me alone? _

Where is Number Four?  _ Fuck if I know, probably dead too. _

Where is Number Five?  _ Dead. _

Don’t you care about the fans you’ll be letting down if you leave?  _ Your wife is cheating on you. (he was happy with that one, especially because of the look on the reporter’s face) _

Are you okay?  _ Obviously not, my brother just died and the other one is missing and the other one’s a junkie. _

He wasn’t proud of that little breakdown, but he felt it was deserved. And when he fell off the face of the earth a few weeks later, no one minded that much. Peace at last.

 

**Allison**

 

Allison was the press’ favourite. She was glamorous, charismatic, interesting, everything they wanted. They asked her about fashion and beauty and never ever about the missions. She liked that. The things they talked to her brothers about sounded so utterly dull. At least she got to talk about skirts and nail-polish (Klaus was probably jealous). 

The downside was she received nothing challenging. Maybe it was because she was the only girl, maybe it was because she was pretty. There was just never any substance in the topics she was given. She wanted to be asked about politics or global warming for once, instead of the latest trends. But there was nothing. She was the magazine’s best story.

Then, with a little help from her powers, Allison was famous. Now they wanted her opinion on  _ everything _ . Life was one big fashion show and existence was such a chaotic spiral of camera flashes and shouting that she didn’t have time to think about her horrific childhood. Unless they asked.

They  _ loved _ drama. First, it was all about Ben. His death was still relevant when she scored her first major role, so naturally, a conversation starter. Mixed into that was the question that she couldn’t answer,  _ what happened to Klaus? _ She didn’t know. He ran off as soon as Ben died. The media loved that kind of stuff, but she hated it. How could they ask her about Klaus- always the most caring of them all, who enjoyed fashion shows with his sisters and talking about boys until one in the morning- how could they ask about him and use such sharp, cruel words as ‘junkie’ and ‘criminal’? She hated those questions, and she was glad when they stopped being asked- because she started to ask them herself. At police stations and hospitals.  _ Where are my brothers?  _

Next came the big news- she was pregnant! And what a fiasco that was. Allison wished for a private life for perhaps the first time. Not being able to take her kid to the park without being hounded by paparazzi was terrible. It was like she was giving Claire the same childhood that she had, and this worried her to a huge extent. That was when her rumour problem began to get worse.

But, like everything in her life, her power was her downfall. The divorce was publicised to the world and everything came crashing down around her. Allison just wanted to be normal, in every sense. She saw articles about her marriage on every corner, she knew people were watching her all the time, her power had ruined her life. 

There was nothing left but interviews and photoshoots.

 

**Klaus**

 

Klaus can’t say he was ever a fan of the media. But then again, the media wasn’t a fan of him.

Sure, when he was a kid, the news loved him. They loved his sass and his style and his power. They loved the way he walked, talked and answered questions as if he knew what he was doing. Then the sass turned to sarcasm, the style was too out-there, his power was non-existent. Washed-up and bitter, he was a classic case of childhood fame gone wrong. 

Now he was homeless, so at least they wouldn’t track him down. People still sometimes stopped him on the street for an autograph, which was like an out-of-body experience. At least he was still pretty in the eyes of strangers (though these strangers were very, very different from the strangers he dealt with as a kid).

It was everyone else who got the backlash of Klaus’ sudden disappearance after Ben’s death, so at least he had that going for him. It was better to be hated than forgotten.

 

**Five**

 

He never bothered with reporters. As soon as he saw one he’d teleport away. It was hilarious. The press got nothing about him other than his name (or lack of) and age… and power, obviously. 

A newspaper would save their lives, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t still hate them.

 

**Ben**

 

If you asked Ben (or, asked Klaus to ask Ben) for his opinion of the media, he’d probably say:  _ ‘I don’t care, I’m dead, how did you get this number?’ _ but what he’d mean would be:  _ ‘I don’t care, they don’t care about me, can we get waffles?’ _ . Basically, he was still bitter about being forgotten after he died. They remembered him for a year, and then he was nothing.

Klaus told him to deal with it- because everyone moves on ( _ and so should you _ )- but Ben enjoyed being a ghost who holds grudges. It annoyed Klaus, so it was a good thing. He even vowed to never read a newspaper ever again ( _ that’s easy, you’re dead! _ ). 

In conclusion, the opinion is:  _ ‘I don’t like the media.’ _ And that’s all that needs to be said about that, thank you very much.

 

**Vanya**

 

The only time she had to deal with the media was when she wanted to deal with the media. Critics loved her book, which meant the public hated it. It was a fifteen-minutes-of-fame kind of deal, but it made Vanya think her siblings used to make a big fuss over something that didn’t mean much at all. Newspapers and interviews were fine, what was all the complaining about?

She would’ve killed to be like them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed, don't forget to leave Kudos, feedback, and requests (I'll only take 16 more!)... Lots of love and have a great day!! <3


	10. Book

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> @Lalaluie :  
> Would you be willing to write something about Vanya being way smarter than they give her credit for?  
> Like she knew her siblings(the ones there when the book was written) wouldn’t read past their chapters and so she put all the things she did for them in like the last chapter- or things their father did to them? Oh! And Five is the one to tell them because he had read the whole book?  
> You don’t have to but thank you if you do!!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is the shortest one yet but oh well... I hope you all enjoy it anyway! I enjoyed writing it! Sorry this took so long!!
> 
> NOTE: I'm only taking 14 more requests!
> 
> Next One-Shot -> Klaus and Five sibling bonding (part 2)

For @Lalaluie

Luther meant to read it- when it first came out, at least. Something on his endless to-do list, something he just never got around to. He could always blame Reginald, the bastard, for sending him on constant missions so he never had time for reading. Then it just became one of those things he tried not to think about, like what happened to Ben- and Five of course. It went ignored. 

Then Vanya’s book got popular (Allison’s fault) and Luther couldn’t dismiss it anymore. The lone copy would watch him from the bookshelf whenever he went near, but he never read it. He was scared. He was terrified of what his sister said about him, or the others. So instead, he just continued his missions one after another, trying to push any reminder that he had siblings, once, away from his mind.

When he was sent to the moon, Luther thought that would be the end of it, but there was always something sinister at the back of his mind- curious, scared and, despite everything, human. Whatever Vanya wrote in her book (he knew it would drive him insane to know- but it drove him insane to _not_ know) he was sure she wouldn’t mind if he forgot it existed. Or, pretended to forget until he believed it himself. 

Four years and one month later, he read the first chapter. It was decent.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Diego was proud of his sister when her book first came into his possession. This changed quickly when he read chapter two. 

He developed the habit of attaching Vanya’s photo to a punching bag, which was incredibly cathartic. This did not, however, make Diego less bitter about what she said about him in the book. It was just something he did to get his subtle revenge (and a workout). He wasn’t going to stop being pissed for a long time.

It wasn’t what was written, perhaps, that was the worst part. It was that she didn’t even blame Reginald, at least in chapters one and two (Diego didn’t read any further). It was all on them. Didn’t she understand that their ‘dad’ made them like that? The dehumanisation, the horrific training, the exclusion, the hell they lived through for years- the hell that _killed_ Ben- wasn’t them, it was _him_. 

And judging by the names of the other chapters (Vanya wasn’t creative) she was going to blame their siblings for everything. Even Five, who ran away because of how their father treated them. Even Ben, who was dead, for god’s sake!

This. This was the part that made Diego hate his sister.

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

At interviews, Allison confirmed that she read and enjoyed Vanya’s thought-provoking book. This was a lie. In a similar vein of lies were gems such as ‘the marriage is going well’ ‘I’m happy with how this film turned out’ and ‘I have never used my power for my own personal benefit’. She was good at lying, so that’s what she did. In reality, she was far too busy to read it, what with all of her meetings and events and shoots and interviews. 

Until she was suddenly and horrifically not-busy. At all. The divorce was publicised, and no one wanted to hire her, and she had nothing better to do, so she decided to read her chapter (she was never one for doing things in order). She already owned about ten different special copies of the book, but she settled with the one Vanya sent, personally. 

It was an interesting read.

She wasn’t like Diego, furious and offended, or Luther, terrified of even looking at it, but she was like a critic. Maybe it was her way of dealing with the sense of betrayal she felt or of feeling like she was still in charge, but Allison attacked the book with a highlighter and several ball-point pens, editing and occasionally entirely re-writing her sister’s work (or, chapter three). It gave her an immense impression of satisfaction, despite knowing deep down that it meant nothing.

So Allison didn’t hate her sister, just thought she was better than her. But, then again, what’s the difference?

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

The things you’ll find in rehab, wow. Klaus couldn’t quite believe his luck. Ever since the book started showing up in stores, he wanted to buy it, but he wasn’t in a position to spend like that (he couldn’t afford to eat on most days, so a book was out of the question) and he didn’t want to steal it. And then he found it… in rehab! 

It was his longest stay, so next time he saw his sister, he’d remember to thank her. Ben was overjoyed when they found it and insisted they start reading almost straight away. Klaus agreed, mostly for Ben’s sake, and the two of them read it together. Ben would comment on certain parts (99% of his comments were ‘I can’t believe she wrote that!’) and Klaus would just smile to himself because his sister just went for it with this one, huh? 

Even though the chapter about himself was mean, Klaus enjoyed it anyway. Vanya was fighting back, for once, and he couldn’t be prouder (even if Ben didn’t approve). He read every chapter, in order, and he was nearly done, too. 

Then the book went missing and all hell broke loose. Klaus tried to find it but it was gone. So he left rehab (no reason to stay) and… It was regretful that he went back to the drugs, but that stay in rehab was his longest time of sobriety yet, so maybe there was something on his side after all. 

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Diego never stopped being angry with Vanya, not really. Currently, the two were sitting on couches at the Academy, pretending the past month didn’t happen and secretly celebrating the not-end-of-the-world. What annoyed Diego, however, was that Vanya was reading her book (already conceited) and she looked like she was enjoying it. 

“Why’d you do it?” he asked with a sharp edge to his tone. Vanya looked up from her book, confused.

“Hmm?”

Diego rolled his eyes. “The book- why did you w… write the fucking book?” He pointed to the work in Vanya’s hands. She seemed to give the question some thought before answering.

“I- uh, I was angry? I wanted to share my story?” She said, clearly nervous. Why would Diego bring this up now? She thought it was a dead subject… Apparently, she thought wrong. 

“But you didn’t have to be such a- a… you didn’t have to blame us!” Diego said, like an asshole. Some things never change. Vanya closed her eyes and sighed deeply, she was too fucking tired for this shit.

She put her book down and took on a calmer demeanour. “What’re you even talking about? Did you even finish the book?” Diego looked away.

“Uh, no, but I read enough to know what a backstabbing b-”

A blue flash filled the room, interrupting Diego as Five appeared in between the two of them. He had an expression of rage across his young (but still old) face, and it was directed at Diego. If looks could kill… well. 

Five coughed, then spoke.

“Shut the fuck up!”

 

\------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 

Half an hour later, everyone was gathered in the dining room, sat around the table (or on the table, in Klaus and Ben’s case) and looking at each other awkwardly. Five was standing on the table, Vanya’s book in hand. No one pointed it out, they knew he liked to feel tall. 

“So, uh, what’s this about?” asked Luther. He was messing with a loose piece of thread on his coat. Allison nodded and Diego rolled his eyes whilst Klaus shot Ben a concerned glance before giving his attention to the wall. A good way of getting out of a conversation is to pretend to be spaced-out, he’d found.

“None of you finished Vanya’s book,” Five said- a statement, not an opinion. 

“I was getting round to it. I read some,” Allison said, trying to defend herself. She was met with a raised eyebrow from Five and sigh from Vanya. Klaus tutted distantly. 

“I feel like we shouldn’t be counted in all of this,” he said, not meeting anyone’s eye. Five glared at him, judgemental as always. 

“Who’s ‘we’?” he asked sharply. Klaus shrugged.

“Ben and I.” He didn’t pause for anyone’s comments. “Yeah, tried to read your book, Van- it was lovely, by the way- but it went missing before we could finish it…” He smiled apologetically at his sister, who nodded back.

“Okay…” Five said, exasperated, “anyone else got an excuse?”

Silence.

Five smiled his signature ‘I know better than you’ smile. “Cool, well, it may interest you to know what the last chapter included.”

“Fine, whatever.” Diego crossed his arms like a child- his go-to response to everything. Classic Diego. Five opened the book to the last chapter and showed it to his siblings, explaining at the same time.

“Basically it tears dear old dad apart bit by bit. So no, Diego, Vanya didn’t blame you for your own shortcomings. She blamed him. You’d know that if you’d bothered to read the book.” He sat down on the table and waited for the reaction. It was underwhelming. 

“Damn,” Luther whispered.

Diego frowned. “Shit.” 

“Got anything to say?” asked Five, sounding like a mom (though he would resent that comment, and say something like ‘I have more confirmed kills than you have brain cells, but that isn’t hard’). 

“Um… yeah-” he unfolded his arms and rested them on the table- “s-sorry, Vanya. I jumped to conclusions, that was wr… wrong of me.”

“It’s ok. I’d probably do the same,” Vanya said, smiling a little, and all was forgiven (well, not  _all_ , but this one thing, at least). Five handed the book to her and no one got up to leave. They all just sat, quiet and comfortable, as she began to read the last chapter of her book to them, and they thought about how angry it would make Reginald- to see them giving their undivided attention to Number Seven.

Perhaps they could be a family again, after all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed! Don't forget to leave Kudos, feedback, and requests (only taking 14 more!) Lots of love and have a great day!! <3


	11. !NOTE!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TLDR - Requests will take a while, if you want to cancel your request please let me know.

Hi everyone! Ruben here. I just wanna say a few things in this note so, uh, yeah...

1\. Thank you so so much for your support! I love writing and getting so much positive feedback has been great :D

2\. Updates are going to be slower than usual (yes, I know, they're already slow but they are gonna be slower... sorry!) for a few reasons:

  * I am working on my own writing project so that is taking up a lot of my writing time. I'm super excited about it :)
  * It's the summer holidays and I have a lot of stuff going on like hanging out with friends so a lot of my time is being eaten by that, too
  * I'm forgetful and tend to watch Netflix too much 
  * I am very tired and writer's block is killing me



3\. So, expect the next update in about a week! I hope no one is disappointed that there isn't an update yet (I know that I check ongoing fanfics every day for new updates so I get how frustrating it all is)

4\. If you want to remove your request from the list, for any reason, just let me know in the comments! Waiting for such a long time can be really boring so I totally understand.

5\. Have a great day! <3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, have a great day! <3


	12. Big Apology

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> TL;DR I'm ending the series and I'm really sorry to everyone who didn't get their request

So... here we are. I'm ending this collection of works.

Firstly, I'd like to say sorry. To everyone who requested something and didn't get their request. Truly, I know how shitty it is to wait for ages for something and not get it in the end. So, I'm sorry.

I am keeping these fics up, because I'm quite proud of a few of them, but I won't be writing any more.

Here are some of the reasons I have:

  1. I am working on two other books at the moment, which I'd like to get published one day. So like, more of my attention needs to be on that.
  2. I have real bad writer's block
  3. I have A-Levels and I'm working myself to death
  4. I've been stressed about this work for the past two-three months and honestly, I just need to put it to bed
  5. I've become increasingly disappointed with my own writing and trying to write these oneshots has been killing me



None of these are really good excuses but like, I'm tired. Basically I love you all very much and I'm so sorry (again) for being a Bad Fanfic Writer TM. All I can really say is eh, I hope you enjoyed this while it lasted. I did, but it was just too much work I guess. Sorry, this sounds so blegh. I'm listening to Waterloo Sunset and crying right now so like? I can't do an emotional thingy??? hhhhh sorry...

Lots of love.

\- Ruben

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you to everyone who stuck with me and supported me! I'm so so sorry that I didn't get everything done, but I learnt a lot and made some good friends along the way... Comment if you'd like, and look out for any of my future works! Lots of love, and have a beautiful day <3

**Author's Note:**

> Don't forget to comment and leave kudos :D I'll write what you request as long as it follows my guidelines. Be warned that some parts of your request might be changed if I feel inspired to do so, but I'll keep the main points the same. Frequency of updates completely depends on how much work I have to do during the week- remember that I am doing this for free in my own time so be nice please!!
> 
> Lots of love and have a great day!


End file.
